Living Legend : Book 4 : Plan Cresh
by Cass Eastham
Summary: The Emperor is dead and so is the Supreme Prophet he once left in charge. Days after the Battle of the Line, the Empire scrambles for stability while the Alliance calculates how to end this war once and for all. Plan Aurek is fraught with military risk. Plan Besh is next to politically impossible. The Jedi must put trust to the test if they are going to succeed with Plan Cresh.
1. 00 Summary

**If you haven't read Living Legend Books 1 through 3, turn back now.**

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 **Summary of Living Legend : Book 4 : Plan Cresh**

The Emperor is dead and so is the Supreme Prophet he once left in charge. Days after the Battle of the Line, the Empire scrambles for stability while the Alliance calculates how to end this war once and for all. Plan Aurek is fraught with military risk. Plan Besh is next to politically impossible. The Jedi must put trust to the test if they are going to succeed with Plan Cresh.

 **Rating / Genre** : R / Mature. — Sex. Language. Alcohol. Prostitution.

 **Dramatis Personae :** Luke Skywalker, OC Kess Lendra, Han Solo, Lando Calrissian, Chewbacca, Artoo, Wedge Antilles, Leia Organa Solo, Crix Madine, Mon Mothma, Threepio, and vivid memories of Obi Wan Kenobi.

 **Length:** 78K words / 42 Chapters. (Extensive editing in progress.).

Special thanks to those who have applied the gentle but constant pressure for a Book 4. This one is for you.

~Cass

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 **Music**

Ignore the images, but find these on YouTube and listen to the music while reading the associated chapters / scenes.

LL4 Ch 02 — Wedge's Birthday Party — Distance by Welder

LL4 Ch 04/13 — Plot-less Sex — Two as One by Michael Whalen

LL4 Ch 17/19/21 — Splash/Parts/Brain Surgery — Dawn by The Cinematic Orchestra - Man with a Movie Camera

LL4 Ch 23/24 — Decoding the Message / Arriving Coruscant — Karakas by Maduro Shimmer Sustain

LL4 Ch 25 — The Streets of Coruscant — Monsoon Malabar by Bombay Dub Orchestra

LL4 Ch 35 — Let the Party Begin — The Dirty Side of the Street by Caravan Palace

LL4 Ch 36 — Special Deliveries — Sing Sing Sing by Bebo Best & the Super Lounge Orchestra

LL4 Ch 38 — Jealousy — The Knowing by David Helping

LL4 Ch 40 — Haunted — The Road to Maduri by Maneki Neko

Zach Vanech's Untold Story — Still Alive by Lisa Miskovsky (Mirror's Edge soundtrack)

Enjoy.


	2. 01 Ambassador Danje of Cagharten

Luke Skywalker fell to one knee, bowed his head with penitence, and raised a palm to the air. "Spare some coin?"

Travelers flowed around him like water, not seeing the shabby robe enough to avoid stepping on it. A shiny pair of shoes skidded to avoid crashing into the sudden obstacle. As the rich man began to step around, he turned to bark at his personal guard. "Get him outta here."

Luke looked up then, tucking back the hood just enough to reveal his intent eyes at the elder human. While one hand remained upturned with a beggar's plea, his other hand kept the hood pulled just enough over his forehead so that only this _one_ traveler could see his face.

Ambassador Danje eyed him with a square jaw of disgust and stepped around Luke to resume his path. The man dismissed the whole thing with a gesture, "Throw him in an airlock," and proceeded down the busy travelway without another thought.

The mute bodyguard towered over Luke's kneeling frame and grabbed him by the shoulders. Luke pulled his hood deeply over his head and stumbled at the handling. Impatient, the guard shoved the clumsy beggar through the flow of fast moving pedestrians and into the nearest public emergency pod. The brown robe fumbled and whipped around the hunched frame as the beggar fell back against the inside wall. "This'll teach you a lesson." The guard cranked down a heavy door and clunked it shut, leaving the beggar harmlessly imprisoned until someone noticed and let him out again.

Luke gave it a moment before peaking sideways out the lifepod's window to the traffic beyond. Ambassador Danje and his bodyguard were long gone. Dozens strutted the travelway with bags, or droids with bags, or droids with kids, or kids with droids, or kids with bodyguards. Except for a chubby-cheeked baby staring in wide-eyed amazement trying to absorb all this madness, no one noticed Luke's face in the lifepod window.

His index finger motioned in the air and the external handle unlatched itself. Luke pushed open the hatch and stepped carefully out.

Two steps later, a protocol droid waddled up to him from the mass of pedestrians. The silver framed, red-trimmed droid handed Luke a datacard and waddled away again without a word.

As soon as the droid was gone, Luke slunk back into a narrow chink between station sections to take a good look at the datacard. It was a hotel room key.

Eyes shifting this way and that, Luke tucked the cardkey into the Jedi uniform hiding under his brown robe and stepped out to disappear amongst the rest of the pedestrian traffic.

An hour later, Luke helped himself into the hotel suite and found the same red-accented protocol droid greeting him in the foyer. The droid took back the cardkey and, politely, hung up Luke's shabby robe as well. Luke took a moment to straighten his tunic and smooth his slacks before strolling powerfully into the grand suite.

Ambassador Danje was waiting for him on a blood red couch, still in his suit of velvet and silk, drink in hand. "Well. I must say you inherited your father's balls."

Luke allowed himself a little grin as he came into the room. Danje was nearly thirty years his elder. Many of that generation remembered all too well the exploits of Kenobi and Skywalker. That Jedi partnership was all over the media during the Clone Wars, just as Lord Darth Vader was all over the media for two decades thereafter.

Ironically, the Empire's propaganda machine avoided making it known that Jedi Anakin Skywalker and Lord Darth Vader were the same man. Luke and Leia decided a long time ago there was no good reason to offer up that morsel to the general public.

Luke gave him a shallow bow. "Greetings, Senator Danje."

Danje waved that off. "I stopped being a Senator the minute Palpatine dissolved the Senate." He puffed out a frown to think on that with displeasure, then turned his attention back to his visitor with a playful warning. "Do you know how close you came to being Imperial Lunch Meat today?"

Luke's voice was easy and quiet. "Not as close as one may think." Luke stepped down into the seating area with ease. "You mentioned concerns about the Jedi Guild to the Minister of State. I'm surprised you weren't expecting me."

"Oh, I was expecting you," Danje corrected with audacity. "I just wasn't expecting you to approach me out in the open on an Imperial-controlled public space station." He eyed Luke like the kid was being a moron.

Luke sat down on the couch opposite of the loud politician. The Ambassador was a big-framed, white-haired human male with a gruff voice and propensity for cutting honesty. Luke made a mental note to tell Leia that describing Danje as 'kind of rough' was a powerful understatement.

And yet there was not one photon of deceit or disrespect emitting from this stalwart personality. Luke liked the man instantly.

Danje looked Luke directly in the eyes, afraid of nothing. "I told your sister I was concerned about the Jedi Guild only because I am. Not because I wanted you to come by and finish her sales pitch."

"No sales pitch." Luke shrugged his hand from his knee. "What are your concerns?"

Danje leaned forward on the couch. His blonde-gray brows hardened over his nose. "You're not getting me: Cagharten isn't splitting off from Empire no matter what you've got up your sleeve. They still have control of the Serra Arm. The first planet that tries to leave is going to get whacked, plain and simple. We're so close to the capital that the Empire can reach out and sting us like it was batting an eyelash. My job is to protect the people of Cagharten in the way they want to be protected. That means staying put. Whoever has Coruscant has the Serra Arm and whoever has the Serra Arm has our obedience."

Luke wasn't deterred. "Perhaps Cagharten should lead the way for all six key systems of the Serra Arm to switch sides at once?"

Danje threw up his hands in the air with a hoot, "Ah yes! The Mutiny Theory!" He shoved to his feet with a flash of a smile. "Your sister threw that one at me too. But that would require the 'six systems of the Serra Arm' to, y'know, _get along."_

As Danje moved to the bar beside the room and poured himself a refill, Luke let his eyes rest on the tabletop to think on a tactical plan to this conversation. When the droid tried to waddle over to help with the drink, Danje flapped his hand away to 'beat it'. Danje offered to make one for Luke, but Luke declined with a simple gesture.

The big voice boomed with conversational curiosity. "Have you ever been in jail?"

Luke fought a grin at the bright tone in his question. He was about to honestly say 'yes', already regretting the digression of relevance to the topic at hand, when Danje continued without his answer.

"I am in jail right now," Danje preached as he returned to the seating area, "because I can't go to my galactic neighbors to even talk about whether the Serra Arm should stay with the Empire or tuck tail and run to the Alliance." His voice yelled from his soapbox and waved an arm in the air. "I can't even invite them to a Table of Debate just to disagree about it."

Luke's gaze remained even, letting the man rant.

Danje's hands and expressions were as animated as his voice. "You see, the strength of a government is her freedom to argue. It takes all ideas—sound, insane, or just plain ludicrous—to come to the same table before an educated group can parse out what's best for the whole population."

So far, the Ambassador was talking _himself_ into leaving the Empire, so Luke just kept his mouth shut.

Danje wagged a finger as he continued, "But the people don't like that, see. Kids don't like it when parents fight. I don't like it either when The Powers That Be argue in front of me. It's uncomfortable! It feels like the whole galaxy is going to hell in a hand basket when _my_ leaders are bashing at each other over a decision that's going to affect _my_ life. It's scary!"

Luke tucked a frowning grin with a shrug of agreement.

"When people see an argument within the ranks of government, they see weakness." Danje instructed, "But if I don't have the ability to decide who's _standing_ at the table on my behalf? Much less walk up to it myself? That's not a government; that's a jail cell."

As entertained as Luke was, he felt a little lost. The ambassador boisterously argued with Luke as though they were in disagreement about something. Unsure, Luke squinted an eye at him. "I'm not here to speak for the Alliance, Senator. I'm here to address your concerns about the Jedi Guild."

Danje's irritation began to throb on the Force. "You don't think the standing of the Jedi Guild is a key factor in the strength of the Alliance?"

"On the contrary. I do. But the Jedi Guild is my _only_ authority. I have no business negotiating the details of Cagharten's position."

Danje reached over to gather a handful of mipnuts from a bowl on the drink table. "You're not a one man army. I get that. But your parlor tricks come in pretty handy when you're trying to get something done."

"Which is why there is a Jedi Code to ensure those 'parlor tricks' aren't used inappropriately."

Danje's eye flared a grin of humor. "That worked well for your predecessors, didn't it?" He popped a mipnut in his mouth and talked as he chewed. "How's that workin' out for ya?"

Luke remained silent but amused.

Danje angled his head, eyeing him curiously. "To how much of the original Jedi Order do you subscribe?" He waggled his hand in the air. "Percentage wise. Give or take a few. How close are you to them?"

Luke crossed his legs as he thought about that. "Hard to say."

Danje flapped a hand away, dismissing any worries about his Imperial loyalty. "I'm not going to tell anybody—

"It's hard to say because I don't know." Luke admitted. "I have few records how they did it."

Danje arched a brow. "And yet you expect to rebuild it stronger than the old Jedi Order? They were the altruistic monks of the government, and they pulled it off for thousands of years!" Danje shouted at him, and leaned forward, holding up an index finger. "One chink in their armor made the whole thing collapse into greed and tyranny. How do you expect to resolve that chink without even knowing what it was?"

Luke didn't have an answer to that right away but he didn't let it show in his face. Whether it was a Force whisper or true poetry, the answer Luke began to spin fit better than anything he could have trudged up in some political think tank, "Corroboration."

Danje angled his chin. His eyes narrowed to ask for more.

"I'm not doing this alone," Luke pointed out.

"Yes. I hear you've taken on your first apprentice," Danje noted.

"Your news is old. I've _finished_ training my first apprentice. I'm about to take on my second."

"Do you have someone already picked out?"

Luke nodded. "And my first apprentice will help me train my second, and so on and so forth. The Jedi Guild isn't trying to recreate the Order the same as it was. We're _reinventing_ it. All of us. The more the better. That's how we intend to fix the 'chink in the armor'."

 _We_. Luke really liked that part: in reference to the Jedi, he could now say, ' _we'_.

Danje scolded him with a look. "There are those who believe the Jedi were the key weakness of the Old Republic. With all that celibacy and panhandling for their survival, many think they were so strict with their own that it's no surprise one of them cracked." Danje spread his hands. "And it's probably better we don't know which one it was anyway, otherwise we'd end up picking apart what happened."

Luke inwardly blanched. _You're damn right it's better you all don't know which one 'cracked' or I wouldn't get support for this Jedi Guild at all._

Cagharten continued his rant, "My vote is leave the rest of that history for the universities to write in the text books. But that makes it hard to ensure that _you_ don't repeat their mistakes."

Luke nodded with his eyes.

"So I ask again: how close is your doctrine to theirs?" He shrugged his fingers at the kid. "You must know something."

Luke wasn't sure how to answer that in numerical terms. His mouth opened to think.

"Let me put the question another way."

 _Thank goodness_ , Luke thought.

Danje looked at him straight on and said it like he was throwing a pitch. "Are you banging your apprentice?"

Luke blinked big. His brows lifted into his forehead.

"Sorry, man." Danje flicked a smile at Luke's reaction. "You're personal life stopped being your own the moment you became a politician."

"I'm not a politician," Luke retorted quietly. "I'm a Jedi Knight."

"Still. You're in the public eye. So it matters. It doesn't matter to _me_ (mind you) but it matters to the people of Cagharten. If we ever leave the Empire, I'm going to have to give them an answer to that question." Danje poked a pointing finger at him. "You should have one ready."

"Sorry," Luke's voice went cold. "Where I come from, the public doesn't care about the intimate lives of their political leaders."

"Where're you from?"

"Tatooine."

"Tatooine? . . . In the Arkanis sector?"

"Yes."

"Run by the Hutts?"

"Yes."

Danje dropped his chin and hiked his voice with humored disbelief. "And you can't figure out why the public doesn't want to know more about the sex lives of your political leaders?"

Laughter splashed across Luke's face, shattering his cool façade. His fingers rested on his brow to hide his eyes, trying to un-see the image of Hutt Sex now in his mind, and flushed pink as he chortled softly.

"Finally! A sign of humanity!" Danje laughed at Luke's reaction. The elder chuckled maturely at him. After a moment, his offer came out like the bullet from a gun. "You wanna drink _now_?"

Calming himself, Luke lowered his hand back to his knee. "Yes, please."

Danje motioned over his shoulder. "Yo! 44! Pour the man a trafula!" Then, to Luke. "You want some dinner?"

"No, thank you."

Danje leaned forward on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees to consider all this. "Let me ask it a different way…"

 _Thank the Force,_ Luke cussed in his mind.

Danje's pretended like he was going to be gentler about it, but voice only got louder. "Are you sexually frustrated, son?"

Despite the cherry hinting on his cheeks, Luke was starting to get used to this. He met the man's eyes like a hard handshake, his voice deep and clear, "No."

Danje slapped his one knee and spread his hands wide with a shout. "That's all I need to know!" He waved the kid off again. "How you resolve that is your own damn business. But it's important to the people of Cagharten to know that training the 'little woman' didn't put a chink in _your_ armor, if you get my meaning."

"I get your meaning, Senator."

The droid brought Luke the drink and sat it on the table in front of him. Luke stared at the glass of clear brown broth that was sure to make his eyeballs spin. He debated on whether he should reach for it.

"I'm _not_ a Senator," Danje corrected again, voice tight.

"No," Luke agreed, meeting the man's eye with a glowing grin, "But you should be."

Danje considered him anew.

Luke continued. "I've met many who feel the same way you do. Now that the Empire has no 'Table for Debate', as it were, the inability to argue on behalf of your system must feel like," Luke nodded at it, "being in jail."

Danje angled his head and listened.

"So," Luke shrugged his hands smugly, "We built a new table."

The elder dropped his eyes and grinned.

Luke pushed slowly to his feet, "If you don't like the way the Jedi Guild operates, or how it fits within the Alliance," he offered with a spread of his hands, "You are welcome to come to our table and argue with me about it."

Despite Danje's narrowed glare, the charm he felt was clear in the pinch of his mouth.

"Until then," Luke bowed respectfully at the Ambassador and turned for the door. "May the Force be with you."


	3. 02 Wedge's Birthday Party

Luke greeted Artoo with a smile. "Ready to go home?"

Artoo beeped something that sounded like a 'hallelujah'. Luke yanked out the red-orange envirosuit from _Five's_ storage locker and stuffed the ratty brown robe away in the same space. He was more than ready to go home but had to concede that the best description of this mission result was Stuck Between Dried Dung and Duracrete.

The Serra Arm was the galactic branch between Coruscant's nest of civilized worlds and uncharted Wild Space. Its major star systems were close enough to the biggest business in the galaxy to put them within smacking distance of the Empire's wrath, but on the edge of it enough they served no tactical advantage without Coruscant itself. Cagharten and her neighbors were essentially 'squished' in the inside corner of Coruscant's power. Whoever held Coruscant held the Serra Arm by default because no one in the Serra Arm could get anywhere without going through the Coruscant neighborhood along the way.

Luke considered this at length as he shoved _Five_ into the sky and aimed the sharp nose toward that nearby dot in space that was the capital planet.

The fresh idea from the Alliance Council was to grab the Serra Arm as a strategic step in taking Coruscant itself. Coruscant's nearby forces blocked any success of a military coup, but if the Serra Arm _willingly_ turned their banners toward the Alliance before the Alliance attacked Coruscant, then taking Coruscant would be as easy as kicking over a domino.

(Well, not _that_ easy, but eas _ier_.)

But it was a Catch .22.

Neither Danje of Cagharten, nor any of the other the other five argumentative leaders of the Serra Arm, were going to turn their banners away from whatever government held the capital and risk being slapped by the nearby military reach of her power. They would likely have the strength to hold back the Empire's punishment if they stood together to defend it, but Danje sang the same tune as the other five. Despite all six systems being stuffed in the same corner of the galaxy by way of nature, they didn't stand together about _anything_ else.

Except, Luke noted, the need for the metaphorical table at which they could safely argue.

He dropped out of hyperspace and saw that black/gold jewel and Imperial seat of power for only a minute. He cranked the X-Wing to a different vector, now aiming for the distant Yavin System, and launched into hyperspace again.

Luke also fretted over Danje's suggestive comments. The rowdy politician was not the first to inquire about the depth of relationship between Jedi Skywalker and his first apprentice, but Luke didn't know how to shove curious noses out of his business without using a lightsaber and the dark side. Perhaps Danje was right that Luke needed to get an answer ready, one that gave up more detail and less insinuation than, 'no comment'.

Before it all started, Luke had settled to an ambivalent acceptance with this the irritating 'living legend' fodder, but he hadn't realized how much he had faded from public attention in the years after the Battle of Yavin until the tabloids went bananas that his first apprentice was a human female. The grittier cultures didn't believe the proclaimed professionalism between them during training, but that only flared Luke's reluctance to reveal that intimacies were occurring now that training was over.

Artoo whistled.

Luke blinked awake and rattled his head. Pale blue stars streaked by in the wavering lines of hyperspace, tinted green by the yellow of his helmet visor. Luke took in the ship's status, looked at the scratched polygon-shaped transparisteel panels above his head, the worn buttons and dim panel lights of the cockpit below.

Waking up in hyperspace reminded him of his real place in the Universe: moving too fast, no real stability, always one microscopic mistake away from a fatal disaster. His life had become a crazy ride between Episodic and Erratic, but he was greeted with the three constants that gave him a mental compass. _Five_ —whether she be 'Red' or 'Rogue' or 'None of the Above'—gurgled like a custom-tuned muscle car beneath him. Artoo beeped his foul language in the socket behind him. And his lightsaber hilt rested between his thigh and the sidewall in a quiet peace as if the object was delighted to not have to do any work on this mission. Luke reviewed the usual stats with Artoo as he thought about all this, and he grinned. The three steady symbols in his life were now four.

Luke clunked back the lever. Wavering streaks screeched to a stop on a glorious view. The emerald green moon glowed in front of the red gas giant. And she was down there, somewhere, waiting for him to get back.

The moon had already rolled the base away from the warm light of its star, so Luke had to land on a Pad that had Flight Ops still on duty. After the air-conditioning of Cagharten's high-class station and the recycled air of _Five_ for the length of his journey, Yavin 4's air felt like the belch of a bantha in his face. The stone deck was wet from a recent rain. Artoo lowered out of his socket with groans about going home for a hungry recharge. Luke ducked under _Five's_ belly to stuff the envirosuit away with one hand and pull up his commlink with the other.

 _Twee twee tweet._

"Yes?" Leia's voice was tired.

"I'm home."

"How'd it go?"

He thought a moment before he told her. "Looks like we're going to have to go with Plan Cresh." He hadn't considered how to word it before it came out of his mouth. There wasn't a discussion about a 'Plan Aurek' or 'Plan Besh' before he left, but something about the tone in his voice and choice of words made the Minister of State understand exactly what he meant.

"Are you in your office?"

Leia paused to consider Luke's suggestion. "Yes, but . . ." Her tone turned friendly. "It's Wedge's birthday today."

Luke's eyes shifted at the odd comment. Of course he'd give the man a call but Luke had higher priorities at the moment. As it was, he was currently marching fast out of the Pad Complex and sensing over the Force buzz of the barracks neighborhood in search of someone specific.

"Han, Chewie, and Lando took him out for drinks and I understand a few more of the gang have shown up to join the party." She sounded like she was groaning about it, but Luke could detect an ulterior motive. "I'm a little too pregnant for that sort of thing right now."

Luke's feet stopped. As Leia complained, he swiveled an about face on his boot heals, away from the barracks and now toward South Base. He cranked his Force senses wide open until he felt his former apprentice glowing like a streetlamp amongst a twisted mass of tiny holiday lights. Kess Lendra was calmer than the big group that surrounded her, but the whole mess of them gathered like a happy knot at the Mash Pit.

Leia's voice grinned with sister-loving wisdom, "Say happy birthday to him for me, will you?"

Luke smiled big and skipped into a refreshed march. "Willco."

His heart thumped like the beat of an old rock song as he marched through the wet air. The last hint of orange sky drifted away to darkness. Only the white circles of street lamps lit the duracrete under his feet. He considered going home to shower and change first but he couldn't wait. His fist yanked opened the hinged door of the Mash Pit. The place bounced with bodies on the dance floor and music pounding so loud over the roar of conversation that it was hard to hear the glass clinks of toasting beer mugs.

Although Wedge's impromptu party took up two booth tables in the corner, the group didn't stand out amongst all the other payday celebrations in the room. The best part of it all was that no one noticed Luke's arrival. He wove through the standing bodies and laughing faces, eyes intent on his destination as if on some kind of covert mission. Luke kept his cool until he moved through the crowd enough to see Han's black-vested back, Ashten's short green hair, and Kess's smiling brown eyes.

Stuffed in the corner as though she had been forced to party, Kess was the only still body at the table. Kayla laughed and Neilson blushed and Wedge wagged a finger at them all. But Kess's chin stayed low, her eyes sliced through the scene to watch Luke's approach without alarm. She sensed him coming a long time ago.

Now, Luke wished he hadn't come. She probably would have raced to the barracks had he not turned his feet in this direction upon landing. He had imagined this meeting to involve the two of them tucking around the dark corner in beautiful privacy. Instead, they were surrounded by people who would be watching this hello with note of every twitch of expression.

Thankfully, no one noticed him for a few seconds more, just enough time to see her eyes shine with secret glee. Luke's soul swelled with warmth and he began to smile back—

"Holy Hand Grenades!" Han crooned, "Look who's here!"

Like most parties, a dozen conversations occurred simultaneously, all of them benign. Only an occasional comment sprouted up through the bumping music enough to be audible.

"Where in hell did he come from?"

"Freaking civilians crashing my party!"

"Yo, get Skywalker a beer."

" _Now_ can we do a round of shots?"

"You're late!"

"I just landed!" Luke whined a fresh smile. Chewie passed a beer over Lando's head to him. Luke reached to take it. "I haven't even been back to my barracks yet!"

In front of where Luke stood, Wedge was in the center seat of this soiree. The other man angled his head and batted his eyes. "You rushed here just for _me_? I'm so honored. Come on. Give your ol' wingman a kiss."

"Of course I rushed over here for you, Wedge. Someone said you survived another year. I had to see it with my own eyes before I could believe it." Luke leaned over the man's shoulder to hover his mug in the air.

Wedge pulled his mug up to greet the toast and a dozen more mugs lifted to crash against each other, accompanied by hoots and hollers and smiles and swigs. Lando began to cackle at something Neilson said. Ashten and her husband started singing again. Chewie was in deep discussion with Nein that involved a lot of shaking his head. Wedge looked around to figure out why their food was late.

Luke's eyes snuck to regain contact with Kess, but Kayla was distracting the woman with a shoving elbow. Kess protested at Kayla to 'quit it.'

The party pretended to continue without noticing them, but the Force said otherwise. The group prickled with attention, desperate to witness proof of what they always suspected. Luke struggled not to be aggravated about these unspoken expectations. Even Ambassador Danje's direct accusations still intruded the side of his mind. He almost wanted to use a Force Persuade on the whole crew. _It's none of your damn business._

Across the crowd, across the table, Kess met his eyes again, now with matching disappointment at it all. There was no smooth way out of this. No matter how they said hello, how soon or how late they left, it would all be blown out of proportion and advertised to the grapevine in the wrong light.

 _Patience_. It almost sounded like Yoda's voice in the back of his mind, but he knew it was only his own subconscious. Luke grinned at the floor with annoyed acquiescence. He lifted his face to meet her gaze, forced a weird grin, and toasted his mug in the air at her, clear and deliberate, for all to see.

Voices tried not to hush. Eyes worked not to watch.

A sad smile crossed her face, but then her eyes sparkled with humor. She lifted her hand—but not her beer—and narrowed her eyes to aim the Force at him. She flicked her middle finger in the air.

A tablespoon of froth splashed from Luke's beer and into his nose.

He felt it coming but didn't rush to protect himself. He wiped his face and snorted his nose. A smile stretched from ear to ear. Luke laughed easily, which got everyone else laughing. Wedge toasted his mug to Kess for a job well done. Nien covered his eyes with his hand. Neilson starting pulling up a chair so Luke to sit down.

Han kicked Luke's boot with significance and hooked a wrist around his neck to pull the kid in for a serious secret.

Luke dropped his chin to his chest to listen.

Han ordered him in a low voice. _"Go home."_

Luke began to glance.

Han arched a hard scolding eyebrow.

Above the cacophony, Kayla shouted with a tipsy slur. "Hey Luke! Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you just happy to see your apprentice?"

Eyes bulged like marbles. Voices stopped mid-sentence. Kess hid her face in horror.

Luke set down his beer, frowning fiercely at Kayla. "You're right, Han. I am tired." And turned his feet to leave.

The crowd moaned at Kayla, some throwing food at her, others throwing their tab at her. Kayla just whined in defense. Kess recovered enough to meet Luke's eyes with public honesty. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Luke assured. "I know you know better." He patted the shoulder of the man sitting in front of him. "Happy birthday, man."

"Thanks, bud." Wedge said, then added. "Wait. Where'd you park _Five_?"

"Pad 32. I'll hop it over tomorrow."

"Copy that." And waved Luke away with a smirk. "Dismissed."

Luke shared a grinning glance with Wedge and turned his back on the whole party.

Rogue Group and gang paused all conversation in an uncertain awkwardness until their former Group Commander was gone from the scene.

Wedge sat up and barked. "Not cool!" The new Rogue GC, especially at his own birthday party, started ordering people around with pugnacity. "Neilson?" He pointed hard at Kayla across the table, "I want her on the greasiest, grittiest, ugliest, nastiest job you've got tomorrow!"

"Copy that," Neilson grinned emphatically.

"Ashten?" Wedge continued.

"Yes, master?" Ashten said, instantly blushing at her own quip.

Wedge tried not to smile and ordered gruffly. "Shots. One, two, three . . ." He pointed at each person at the table to see if they were in or out. Ashten kept track of the orders. Kess slumped in the corner and tried to fade into the woodwork.

When the drink muster reached around, Wedge jabbed a finger at Kayla. "You are cut off." (Kayla scoffed in childish complaint but everyone insisted she deserved it.)

To Kess, Wedge barked harder, "And _you_ ," he seemed to struggle with which cuss words to use only to settle for a simple end to the episode. Wedge thumbed over his shoulder. "Out!"

"Wait a minute," Kayla defended. " _I_ said it! Not _her_!"

Ashten angled her green head. "Technically you can't order her around if she's not in Rogue Group anymore."

Wedge shook his head. "I don't care. It's my party." Wedge glared at Kess and ordered it again, shoving his thumb over his shoulder at each statement. "Get out. Leave. Go. Dismissed."

It caught her off guard at first, but she saw the instruction in Wedge's eyes as clearly as she could feel it on the Force. She nodded at Wedge with humility and obedience. Kayla complained as she let Kess out of the booth. Ashten talked into her husband's ear. Neilson pulled over Luke's full mug so he could drink it himself. Seidrick flirted with Jazzy. Chewie laughed at something. . . . When the party sufficiently bubbled back to a rolling boil, Kess reached from behind Wedge's chair and kissed his temple. "Happy birthday."

Wedge tucked cold eyeball over his shoulder in scolding. His index finger flopped back and forth between his shoulder and hers. His taut voice was carefully quieter than the din rising around them. "Do we have an understanding, Lieutenant?"

Kess grinned bashfully and she patted his arm, "You're a good wingman."

Wedge gave her a thumbs up and thumbed her to get out. "Carry on."


	4. 03 A Third Hello

Kess wasn't as nervous as she was exited, but she was more nervous than she expected. Even if the next encounter was in a dark corner where no one was looking, she had no idea the appropriate way to react to him anymore. She calmed her nerves as she ran down the sidewalk and turned the corner to find Luke's marching away on the public street. She sensed his simmering discomfort and Kess began to get offended. After a year of training, and most of that simultaneously serving in his command, they should be beyond this uncertainty by now.

Granted, her two weeks in med lab, from the Battle of the Line to her Jedi Graduation on Victory Day, passed without any significant interaction.

Victory _night_ , however, was one for the books.

But the never-ending chores of battle clean-up didn't give them a chance to fumble into an alternate flight pattern. Jedi training was over, so neither had a convenient excuse to say 'no' to that diplomatic strategy meeting or 'no' to stay late and lend a hand with Gold Four. Coupled with his still-healing thigh and her still-low iron levels, the 21Bs had independently ordered them both _not_ to go running for a while.

Kess once managed an excuse to visit his barracks with datacards she 'had' to return, only to find that the Battle of the Line berthing disaster had relocated the Jedi data library out of Luke's spare room to make way for a new roommate. Werdun was a bothan sergeant from the _Mon Wrika_ who happened to be near an escape hatch when the ship got hit with a chempod. The man was now suffering survivor's guilt and fretting with cynicism whether to stay with the Alliance or to give it up and go home. As such, the angry fur ball stared out the window with indecision and never left Luke's living room.

Luke once brought over some take-out food for Kess and Joanne on their last day of bed rest (and the rest of the gang while he was at it) but the whole group-food-around-the-drink-table-watching-the-vid stretched into the evening without anything more than a secret gaze that they both wished they were elsewhere.

Truly, the Force did most of the communicating; appeasing and delaying things that shouldn't be expressed in company or couldn't be said with words. And yet, Kess soon realized all this was the same state under which they suffered for the entire long year of Jedi training and Rogue Group Repair: emotionally joined at the hip but physically light-years apart.

Hardly a week after Victory day, when the first free weekend was coming up, Kess planned to urge him out to the clearing where they could talk about this openly, but then Luke suddenly needed to go on another 'vacation' to go talk to 'someone' about 'something' . . . leaving Kess to escape the after-battle repairs of Y-wings on a Benduday with nothing to do but hack the codebox on his Canali 250 and 'Grand Theft Speeder' it out to the clearing by herself.

Meditate? Ha! More like tears of frustration. The waiting was supposed to be over by now.

Sure, Victory Night was one to break records.

(The next morning was pretty damn awesome too.)

But in the two weeks since then . . . ?

Kess simmered in offense that this avoidance had stretched beyond 'first-date discomfort' and now qualified as 'morning after regrets'. In the back of her mind, the Dark Side began to argue that it was all just sexual curiosity that was now, simply, resolved.

Ahead of her on the dim-lit sidewalk, Luke's marched fast and hard away from the public sector, her included, as if in a rush to get back to the safety of military regulation.

"Yo!" She shouted annoyance as she trotted to catch up.

His boots stopped short. Luke only half-turned with a huff through his nose and set his hands on his hips.

"Don't get mad at _me_ about it!" Kess snipped as she caught up. "If I used the Force to glue Kayla's mouth shut that would be using it for personal advantage."

A snigger snorted from his nose.

Kess felt a little relief that his reaction was a smile. She shrugged and looked around for an idea of what to say or do next. There was an occasional droid in the distance, but no people in visible range. Did that matter? She spread her palms at him.

Blue eyes smiled, but his voice was still low. "Like I said: I know you know better." With softer shoulders, he resumed his walk north toward base.

She sighed out the sting in her lungs. No hug. No holding hands. No high five. No _nothing_? She fell into step beside him and glanced around for an idea. They were technically in public even if no sentient beings were nearby. Yet the closest droid was just a ball of electronics floating along the distant tree line. Her words hissed out in sarcasm. "Why thank you, Master."

Luke's tone was as strong as his sudden smile. "Oh, don't start that!" He sighed in stiff humor as he continued his march. "It's just not the way we do it back home."

Kess grumbled. "Depends on the neighborhood back home, _peedunkee_."

" _Ya gueda pluba_ ," he agreed, not looking at her as he marched. "And it's not because I've got anything to hide. I don't. You know that better than anybody." His complaining was louder than usual. "I'm just tired of being on everyone's radar all the time!"

Kess secretly focused on the distant floating thingy long enough to realize it was a seeker-cam, the very thing Luke was complaining about _right now_. It was too far away to make out the NewsNet channel icon, but that didn't matter. The 'radar' was most certainly tracking them. And she began to understand what his entire outburst was about.

She tried to make a joke of it. "Now you're starting to sound like a politician."

Only a dozen steps short of the south gate, Luke stopped his boots and turned to bark at her. "I am _not_ a politician!"

Face to face with the shouting Jedi under a streetlight, Kess blinked shy eyes to wince at his verbal blows while simultaneously trying not to bust up laughing at his harmless temper tantrum.

Humor curled his tone as he ranted. "I am _not_ running for office! I do _not_ rule a planet! I cannot make the Guild what it used to be and I wouldn't if I could!"

Kess waved her arm too. "I wouldn't let you if you wanted to!"

He reared back with new humor. "You wouldn't _let_ me?"

"You're not doing this alone anymore! You have the superior knowledge and skill—yes—but you do not know everything."

Luke wiped his palm down over his whole face. "Are you paying attention—

" _Yes_."

Hands on hips and weight cocked onto one foot, Luke met her eyes with shields up and guns ready. Kess knotted her arms across her chest and shifted a chin in righteous defiance about locking his chocks until he was done with his fit. They stared at each other as if caught between anger and laughter, careful that _this_ snapshot would be no different than the dozen others already published in tabloids over the last year.

But what the seeker cam couldn't see was the humor tickling the back of their throats and the happiness throbbing on the Force. The glow in Luke's eyes was clear, _I missed the hell out of you._

Her worries dissolved when Kess realized she didn't need to him to say or do anything; she just needed to start using the tools he'd taught her. Their emotions matched, point for point. All they needed now was a dark corner.

"In fact," Kess raised an index finger and grinned. "I've got an idea how to get them off your back."

"What's that?"

"When you start dating," she smirked devious, "I'll cover for you."

Luke curled over with a soundless laughter.

She motioned between them. "It's like a Jedi-partner thing. But the caveat is that you've got to cover for me too."

He gave her a grin of warning. "Oh?"

She hopped closer to him little like a begging puppy, "I met this really hot pilot in Blue Group the other day."

Luke dropped his fists from his hips and turned away, eyes sparkling with laughter. He fished out his identchip from a pocket.

Kess skipped to keep up, fumbling to pull her own identchip out of a pocket as she teased at his back. "You think you can get me his number?"

"Yeah, I should mention . . ." Luke grumbled as if with disappointing news and pushed through the turnstile. He clicked his identchip in the machine so it would let him through, and glanced to break it to her. ". . . I met this redhead—

He cut off his own words when he pushed out turnstile on the other side of the shield. Kess reached to whack him in the elbow but he had already slipped through. In a frustrated rush to follow so she could hit him, she clicked her identchip and pushed through too.

The seeker-cam zipped up to the turnstile and hovered up and down, back and forth, trying to get one last snapshot through the wavering shield surrounding the turnstile. It only managed to get a blurry video of two people walking away.

Both pairs of eyes hung back to verify the base security system did its job, exchanged a grinning glance, and marched ahead for the neighborhood of barracks.

Kess didn't know where they were going, especially since both of them had roommates likely to be at home, but she followed his flank like they were late for duty. At the end of this block, they would have to turn left for her barracks or turn right for his. Perhaps they could jump in his speeder and take it out to Toban Ridge or something, but she'd forgot to put his speeder back where he had left it. Kess wasn't sure which 'airbrakes' to yank, much less if she had any influence on Luke Skywalker's 'airbrakes' at all.

"So the first hello was for the crew, and the second was for the camera. . . ?"

"And now you want a _third_?" Luke spun his march around to flash an audacious smile back to her. "How many blasted hellos do you want?"

Words caught in her throat, trying not to grin, trying not to rebut. She struggled to keep up with his quick clip, and keep up with his intent, because now Luke was storming into her barracks and thumbing for an elevator car. She wasn't sure if he was just walking her home as any normal training day or outright coming over. And yet, a handful of rebels were in the nearby lounge, playing poker and grubbing down junk food. Eyes glanced to notice the Jedi pair in the hall.

It was enough. Kess didn't dare respond with honesty, but she still enjoyed his playful pilot mode. The love in her eyes was clear, _I missed the hell out of you._

He pretended not to see it but his face brightened anyway. Luke crossed his arms at his chest and locked his knees like he was mad at her. "Before I answer you, you have to answer me."

"About what?"

His nose poked closer with accusation. "Why is my speeder not parked where I left it?"

Busted. Kess inhaled hard and smiled a shrug. The elevator doors opened and she blithered out the first bantha fodder in her brain. "I was practicing. . . this Jedi trick in um. . . ." she shrugged again, "Force Larceny?"

It was always easier to go into a place alone together while they were arguing and/or laughing about something, especially when they were being observed. Most of the time, they continued to argue and/or laugh just to keep from drawing their _own_ attentions to the fact that they were alone together. But now 'alone together' was open to an entirely new protocol.

And yet, they stepped into that tiny cubical, side by side, eyes on the floor, eyes on the door, hands clasped behind backs, not touching, not talking, not even glancing . . . .

Her frustration exploded like a hatching spider's egg. "How long are we going to keep it a secret?"

"Not secret." He shrugged pitifully. "Just . . . private."

She turned to him and yelled in her whisper. "Even in a lift?"

With one eye grinning at her, Luke slowly pointed to the corner of the ceiling.

Where the camera was.

Kess curled her fingers and rattled her hands in the air and growled like a gargan beast, smiling, flushing, laughing, and ready to beat a hole into the steel wall.

"Welcome to my world," he crooned quietly.

They arrived at her apartment door, but Kess didn't open it. Instead, she braced herself for the rejection of his continued avoidance. She dropped her shoulder against the door frame to share a bland good night as though they were returning from training, or returning from the flight deck, or returning from the Council Building, or med lab, or the CIC bunker. . . .

Luke met her eyes, his expression not unlike all the other times he said goodnight and turned away, with a hurricane of wishes swirling inside a transparent bubble of discipline. He looked at the door and saw through it. Neither of them needed the Force to know Yana and Joann were in there, but Force senses confirmed it anyway. Blue eyes shifted back to brown.

Kess pressed her mouth to accept it with grace—

Luke thumbed the door control.

She hardly inhaled her surprise when he took a quick step back to get out of view. She didn't understand his intentions, but she offered herself up as pawn for his gambit and stepped into the apartment before her roommates saw him.

"Hey girly girl." Joann was in her pajamas, sitting sideways in the chair and hanging her brown legs over the armrest, stuffing her face with chips as she watched the news. Yana was curled up in a blanket on the couch with her nose in a mystery novel. She glanced up only for a moment, grinned hello at Kess, and put her nose back in the book.

"Hi guys." Kess strolled up behind the couch and eyed the vid. Blue-faced Wubak summarized new rumors about an Imperial heir, and this kind of report now carried personal interest with Kess.

Ever since Supreme Prophet Kadaan was killed in the Battle of the Line, the Empire had been scrambling to produce a legitimate line of succession in order to maintain it as an 'Empire' at all. The media circus now stretched into its fifth week with various Grand Moffs insisting This or That political claim in case no Palpatine offspring stepped forth.

So far, none had.

Wubak quoted pundits that "desperate times called for desperate measures" where "radical ideas" were being presented for consideration. A growing number of officials pressed for representatives from each Imperial System to gather so they could discuss and decide the future of the government together.

To which, many rebel eyebrows wrinkled with humor. 'You mean . . . kind of like . . . a _senate_?'

Since the Empire seemed to be talking _itself_ into becoming a Republic, the Rebellion essentially kicked up its combat boots onto an ammo box and polished its gun to wait and watch. Yet, as with any public debate involving billions of voices representing trillions of opinions, the only solution that would be quick and uncontested was a DNA-proven offspring of Palpatine or one his original cohorts.

Every time she heard mention of the debate, Kess wondered, briefly, if she had carried that artificially-inseminated fetus to term, would _she_ have be able to claim the Imperial Throne as Queen Mother? Just so she could _dissolve_ the damn thing?

Thought experiments of such galactic magnitude took no more than a moment in her mind, especially now that Luke was slipping silently behind her from one open door to the other. He didn't need to use a Force trick to divert the attention of the roommates. The news did it for him. Wubak turned to a related report, now with Jedi Skywalker's face on the mini-window behind her shoulder, still talking about heirs and apprentices and Force-users. . . .

Eyes bounced up from books and chips. Kess half expected Joanne or Yana to quip, 'There's your man again,' as if Kess was still glued to the vid for any glimpse of her favorite sports star. Instead, they glanced up to Kess with caring sympathy. "I'm sure he'll be home soon."

Kess pressed her mouth to keep herself from grinning. She sighed hard, nodded thanks, and swiveled her boots around. "Good night, girly girls."

"Aren't you going close the door?"

"Sorry." Kess pulled a hand from her flight suit pocket and swished a finger in the air. The front door closed as she strolled alone into her unlit bedroom.

Her eyes were already on the figure in the darkness, standing in the shadow between the open door and the foot of the bed. Kess reached aside to the wall, thumbed the door first and the lights second. Luke stood there like a black monolith, with his hands in his own pockets and nerves tugging his stomach as if he were about to discipline her for something of which he was also guilty.

"So um . . . I um. . . ." Her voice stuttered as craving swelled her throat. Her eyes dilated on him. She pressed her back against the door and clasped her hands behind her hips in the continued self-discipline to keep from reaching for him. Then, nervously, chuckled in guilty defense, "I just borrowed it to go the clearing last weekend, I _swear_."

Grinning anew, he took a careful step closer, and pulled his hands from his pockets.

Shyness washed over her. She dropped her eyes.

Luke knocked the toe of his boot against the toe of hers until she looked up at him. And she looked up at him . . . terrified, innocent, overwhelmed, hopeful . . . like she'd never been kissed before. Luke could only smile at this insanity, trying to figure out how _that_ could be possible, all while his hand groped the line of her belt. With his tongue sucking curiously on a canine, he grabbed her lightsaber hilt and yanked it from her hip. Kess bit her lips together and blushed pink when he tossed it aside. His body fell against hers, pinning her gently against the door as he deftly yanked his own hilt free and dropped it with significance to the carpet too.

Eyes caught eyes. Whispers smiled. "Hello."

Nose brushed nose. Arms enclosed. "Hello."

And he kissed her.


	5. 04 Plot-less Sex

He kissed her. Tender and timid, as if he were just as nervous about this as she was. Kess opened her senses, not because she wanted to know, but because she couldn't help it. He kissed her again, careful, uncertain, but there was a kind of insistence to it, as if—deep down—Luke wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer. Not that 'no' would have been her answer. But when he kissed her third time, he took her face with it, and intruded her mouth, and tasted her like she was forbidden nectar.

And then he paused.

His breath shook in her mouth, and Kess opened her eyes. His hands fumbled down the front of her body as if afraid to touch it, as if he were groping things he wasn't supposed to grab. A dim yellow of the streetlamp sliced through her cheap window blinds. She couldn't see all of his face, only the line of his jaw, his squeezing eyelid . . . his conflict.

Fear and lust blossomed like a multi-colored flower. Adrenaline or wisdom? Crank the throttle or slam the brakes? She could feel it choke in his throat. He wasn't supposed to be doing this. They weren't supposed to be doing this. But by who's rules? Training completed. Command resigned. And if any glowing chaperone were going to show up to stop this, they should have showed up long before now.

His palms hugged her hips, fingers struggling to tuck under the leather belt wrapped around her flight suit, but to hold her there or draw her in? To slam her against the wall, or invite her closer? There was a thirst for power here, tightly controlled perhaps, all too often meditated away, but it was there. The dark side. Visceral. Feral. Libidinous. Luke was tired of being the good guy.

Her arm scooped deeper around his shoulders so she could pull herself up into his mouth. And, at that obvious invitation, he swallowed her. His fingers gripped her sides like claws. And she dove deeper into his grip like an immature, little girl plea, _'Take me, I'm yours!'_

He didn't need to be told twice.

His arms wrapped around her waist and pinned her against his body almost to the point of picking her up. And she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck almost to the point of lifting herself up. Boots stumbled over each other as they backed away from the door. She tripped on his foot and he tripped on a hilt, and they fell in an uncontrolled crash onto the squeaky bed, shattering the silence with a storm of trapped laughter.

The blankets were already a mess. Kess never made her bunk anyway. Luke tried to lift onto his left elbow to untangle from the covers and crawl further up, but his slight movement amplified the groan of its metal frame. He stopped short, eyes wide.

She saw the shock strike his face in the yellow striped light and Kess fell to her back, covering her laughing mouth with both hands before her uncontrolled guffaw escaped and alerted the roommates in the other room.

With a smile from ear to ear, his head drooped from his neck, his chest shuddering in silent laughter. Carefully, and with one winking eye of concentration, he tried again, crawling combat style to the length of the bed without making too much noise. Soon, he settled, delicately, on his side, one hand propping his head up behind his ear and she rolled to him, matching his position, but with fingers already fidgeting to find the clasps of his tunic.

With laughter now calmed to a dirty grin, Luke looked at her in the darkness. "Guess this bed doesn't get visitors often."

"You're the first," she admitted bashfully. How could it be that she didn't have the strength to look him in the eyes? She focused her eyes where her fingers were working, finding and fidgeting the hidden buttons of his tunic one by one, struggling to manage each with only one hand. But she could feel his stare, knowing well the barrier she was crossing by doing this, and she couldn't help but meet his gaze, as if a child sneaking a cookie right under the nose of the cook and wondering if she would get away with the crime.

His answer was to grope for her leather belt and pull the strap loose.

Craving flowered again. Kess reached up and kissed him, scooting closer into him so she could. And while his mouth took that invitation, it was distracted, because he was focused more on pulling the leather out of its loops and blindly toss it to the floor behind him. She dropped her shoulder to the bed so she could use both hands on those blasted buttons and he dropped his shoulder to the bed so he could pull her hands away and finish the task himself.

Now parted for the rushed minutia of this, she brought up her knee to untie a combat boot. He sat up entirely to kick his off by the heels. Tunic now gone. Boots now gone. Socks stripped away. He fell back to the bed, this time on top of her, loosely straddling one leg so he could dig his elbows into the mattress beside her head for another hungry kiss, this time, ignoring the complaints of the bed frame.

But the kiss relaxed as it drenched itself with emotion. And lips parted so eyes could find eyes in another episode of _Are we really doing this? Are you really in my arms? Is this really happening?_

Breath shuddering in her chest, she could only smile to discover that it was true. She pulled her arms from his shoulders and bit her lower lip to use both hands to quickly unbutton the black shirt at his neck. He let her. And used the distraction so he could get away with fidgeting with the braids knotted at the back of her head. His confusion was instantly visible.

With a little chuckle, she pushed him off and sat up entirely so she could do it herself.

Luke rolled onto his back slowly this time, arms and legs stiff in their reluctance to let her go, but his expression struck like a boy enchanted by a new sight. Upright, and with boob-popping posture, Kess stared at him with dirty intent as she pulled the pins from her hair and unrolled the twin braids from the back of her head. It was a good thing she hadn't washed her hair lately or the whole thing would end up a frizzy disaster. And since he hadn't showered either due to his trip in hyperspace, they were matching cases of earthy filth.

Soon, he sat up too. She unraveled one braid while he unraveled the other, unweaving and combing with fingers, until long burnt blonde kinks flowed over her flight suit shoulders. With both hands, she scooped it all to one side to get it out of the way and found his eyes again. Luke looked drunk.

This time, his fingers combed deep into her hair behind her ear to pull her in for a kiss. Starting fast and ending slow. He kissed her again, now with his fingers pulling down the zipper of her flight suit, lingering over the lump of her breasts and ending at her stomach. They both wore tank top undershirts underneath all these clothes, his black, hers army green, but the separated canvas of the coveralls was enough to spike him into a new rush. She shoved the black shirt from his shoulders. Mouths fumbled and reached to maintain contact while they struggled with all this undressing. He reached away and whipped his hand to get the sleeve uncaught from his wrist and go away. She fell on her back with frustration and began pulled the tools lumping her pockets that were interfering with her ability to detect any lumps on his body.

A socket wrench fell to the floor with a thud, and Luke snickered at it, but, with a smile, he grabbed the edge of her open flight suit and pulled her closer with it. "I've got a better idea." Holding himself up again by the elbow, he groped for the zipper again and this time, pulled it from the waist and farther down her left leg.

One didn't need to unzip the whole thing to get a flight suit off, but that didn't matter. It was designed so that a person could zip it up over another uniform, all the way down to the ankle. Few people wore a second layer on sweaty Yavin 4 anyway and, from previous, secret, intense observation, he already knew that she didn't. Hovering half way over her so he could reach, he watched the zipper go, all the way down to the ankle.

And a single finger tip drew a line to follow the new visible skin all the way back up. Her body swelled into him. He took the mouth that was offered as his fingers skipped the tank top and traced fabric away to bare her shoulder. She blindly unraveled his belt. He ripped away the velcro of her wrist strap. But the kissing had to pause again, this time with heavy breath and hovering lips. She pulled herself up with one naked arm around his shoulder so she could fidget her other arm out of the top of the suit. He yanked his belt from his waist and tossed it behind him. She shimmied out of the flight suit and he ripped off his undertop.

Now, with her only in a tight tank, hidden bra, and underwear, and him bare-chested in only in his slacks, he landed on her and pressed in.

And a silly thought streaked through her mind. _No, Kayla, he's just happy to see me._

One kiss followed another. Legs entangled. Fingers traced. Lips groped. Arms trapped. He was shaking. She was panting. His mouth went to her neck and she tried desperately to reach in for his waistline, but he pulled her wrist out and pinned it back out of the way. And he bit her neck to keep her there. He had other business first.

Obedient to lay there like captured prey, she closed her eyes to feel it. His palm slid back down over the top of her body, and he didn't need any Force trick to get the swells to rise and meet his hand. His fingers tucked under the waist of the tank top and groped up again, barely touching her as he went, and soon pulled the whole thing away from her torso.

A kiss. A breath. Nose nudging nose. His palm returned to pull the strap from her shoulder. He paused, swallowing hard, and took in the sight of her bra-trapped chest. With one palm she took his head and lifted her breasts into his face. With the other, she reached behind herself and unlatched the bra.

He was already kissing them, wallowing in them. The bra went away and he was cradling them, tasting them. They weren't particularly large, nothing to boast photos of, but that didn't seem to matter to him. He was drunk by them, so much so that she needed to take his face and pull him back up so he could get back to work.

His mouth was raw, smiling wistfully in its intoxication when he found her eyes again. And the lump by his thigh may very well have been a steel hammer by now. She held his face with both hands and growled at him in aggravation. "Take your fucking pants off."

His humor flared and he rolled off of her only enough to follow the order. The bed squeaked horribly as he moved and he slowed to allow the noise to calm. Through the wall, they heard a door. And the froze to remember there were people in the other room. They listened. The vid silenced. The air changed with an adjustment to the heat controls. And they heard another door.

Silence.

Now, every nudge brought a complaint from the bed frame to seem louder than anything else in audible range. Now, he shifted the slacks from his hips and kicked them off while trying to keep it entirely quiet. Now, he rolled back over, slow and careful, and lowered his entire nudity to rest on the almost of all of hers.

Now the whole mood changed. Now the kisses were slower and the hands deliberate. Fingers went into hair. Open skin brushed against open skin. Breasts pressed to chest. Tongues groped and limbs reached. And a hooked finger dragged down the side of her underwear from her hip. When last piece of clothing left the scene of this crime, it got real. It got scary and intense. He seemed nervous again to finish the distance, so she pulled his leg over with her leg, and summonsed him to get on top.

He looked at her, mouth parted as if in shock, like this was the last thread keeping him in sanity, the last moment he could turn back. In this, she had more experience, more confidence, so she reached between them and put him in his place.

His eyes fell closed with a caught breath. His head fell slowly to her neck. His open hand shook beside her head. And he gradually caved in.

Claws went into his shoulder blades and a cry escaped her throat. He cussed into the nape of her neck. Luke actually fucking _cussed_. Shuddering to keep his wits, he pulled back, but only enough so his knees could get a better grip and do it again, further and harder. Her legs wrapped around his thighs to hold him there, but he rocked back and shoved in again. Slowly enough to keep the bed from making too much noise, but firmly enough that she inched closer to the headboard every time.

Her head reached back until her neck was wide open for the taking, fighting the urge to cry out. His lips dribbled along her throat as he tried to breathe. Slowly invading, over and over, intoxicated by the warm fuzz now sweeping over every nerve like a hot breeze. As his mind caught up with the delicious feeling, he blinked his eyes open to see her there, eyes closed in concentration, wet mouth open for more, begging to be taken. So he paused his invasion so he could kiss it.

 _I don't just want this; I want you._ He took her face and made her look at him. _All of you._ And he rocked in again, just to see the what the look on her face would be. The way she reacted each time. Like he was plucking out organs and she was helpless to stop. The control, the _power_ , was almost better than the tactical feel of it. He stopped paying attention to how good it felt and started focusing on what it was doing to her. She clawed for more and he gave her more. She clawed for faster but to that he said no. She clawed his ass and he leisurely complied. He was balanced on a beam now, so precarious that a breath of wind would blow him over. And when her eyes popped open in a shock like she'd been stabbed in the stomach, when every muscle in her body shook like an earthquake, massaging him that much more, his control collapsed like a stack of bricks.

Poison. Sweet, delicious poison. Veins pulsed and breath heaved. Both bodies shoved together until every drop was swallowed. And finally, slowly, rested to a stop.

She continued to quiver underneath him in tender aftershocks, gasping for air. And he trembled in her grip until he settled on her body like sand. They were one person now. So blended together in body, in emotion, in the Force, that even some glowing ghost wouldn't be able to tell them apart. And they liked it that way. His nose brushed hers hello but without any intention of leaving this place. This. Right here. This bliss. This woman. This sex. This body. It all belonged to him. And no one else.

She reached up her mouth to kiss him, gentle and tender, inviting him to stay there as long as he liked.

A sigh. A grinning, embarrassed, shuddering sigh. He lifted enough of his weight off so she could breathe again, but he didn't go far. And even that much made the bed squeak. He smiled, nearly chuckling, and found her eyes in the darkness. And she smiled up, eyes sparkling, laugh growing.

"Did we keep the bed quiet?"

He shook his head, "I have no idea."

They giggled into each other's necks about it, and the slightest of movement brought another squeak from the frame. She snickered harder, though trapping the noise of her laughter well enough, the shuddering of her stomach to do so resulted in the rude ejection of his extra limb from her extra crevasse.

Which only made them both snicker that much harder.

Cheeks pink and smiles from ear to ear, he rolled to laugh and she rolled into him for the same, never entirely separating to do so. Like a cuddling kitten and a protective dog, they intertwined, side by side, pulled over the pillow so they could share it face to face, and pulled up the covers so they could hide almost entirely underneath.

Words weren't necessary. The delight was clear enough in their eyes. As if still in disbelief of all this, they stared at each other. She wanted to clean up the mess but not enough to leave. He wanted to do it again, but not enough to end this moment. And he would do anything to stay like this forever, to keep her here, to keep her his. Who had all the power now?

When the last of the buzz had drifted away, when the last of the giggles had calmed, she slithered closer into his body and closed her eyes. And he combed fingers into that beautiful hair and held her for as long as she'd let him, wondering vaguely if there was some Force trick to stop the moon from rotating toward the sun.


	6. 05 Prince Petra of Flan

"Minister?" C-3PO's voice was delicate. His whirring servos disrupted the dark room as much as the lights of his eyes. He tuned the bedside light for a dim glow, then crossed the floor to the bed and bent over the pile of blankets. With a tender touch, Threepio nudged a visible arm. "Minister?"

Leia's head jerked up from the pillow with a hard sniff of sudden awakeness. Threepio took a respectful step back as she pushed up to an elbow. "What."

"Forgive the hour, Minister. You have a comm call from your Serra Contact List."

Leia sat up more and rattled her head to wake up. She breathed like dragon to yank herself out of the deepest of sleep. Her brows knitted over a scrunchy face.

Threepio took another step back. "Your instructions were to interrupt you at any time if anyone from that list tried to contact you."

"No-s'okay. Tell'em I'll be right there." She blinked over big eyes. "Which one is it?"

Threepio paused before leaving. "His Royal Highness Prince Petra of the Flan System."

Leia grinned, hard and dark, and nodded to wave Threepio away. She reached behind her with a placating pat for Han but only found an empty bed.

Leia did a double take, then flattened a perturbed mouth, and threw her feet over the side.

It took only seconds to finger-comb her hair into a high ponytail and hide her pajamas with a rich purple robe. In fact, most of the moments between waking up and sitting down at the comm station were focused on preparing her mind for this. This was no social call. Prince Petra was putting his life in danger by getting in touch with the Alliance.

The Flan System was loyal to the Empire, yet Leia considered Prince Petra an old friend because the two fumbled through a single date during boarding school. The date was pre-arranged and in the public eye, complete with formal gowns and flashing cameras at a benefits dinner, but they learned a mutual respect during that shared moment of luster and fame in front of the political media.

The last time she saw Petra was under the Senate Dome before the Civil War began, and their only communication that day was a grinning, knowing nod when they passed each other in the hall. That meant they hadn't talked for nearly ten years now, yet Leia was confident the mind of Prince Petra hadn't changed. The Flan System would have long since become a part of the Alliance were it not trapped the Serra Arm of the galaxy.

Upon the holo-projector flickered a man with a strong chin and well-brushed hair. His cultured Inner-Rim accent curled further with flirtatious coo. "Leia, you sultry minx, whispers have it that you have a bun in oven."

Brown eyes glinted. "Sorry, Petra, it's not yours."

"Mores the pity," he winked proud and warm. "Good for you."

"Thank you." She folded her fingers together on the tabletop in front of her.

Petra eyed her through the screen. "They found an heir."

"They're certain?"

"Not so certain as to cancel the gathering to argue his legitimacy. The Grand Moffs aren't going to sit down without a fight." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, "But if DNA proves a direct relation, we're back to square one, honey bun."

Leia's eyes drifted to memory, struggling to find the clues she missed to see this coming. "I didn't even know Palpatine had any children."

"No, not Palpatine." Petra settled his elbows on his own comm station. "Though an heir from Palpatine would cut their quibbling like a guillotine. No, they opened the window. They're taking arguments for heirs from the original High Command. This one is reportedly Darth Vader's illegitimate squirt."

Leia's dropped her eyes into her fingers to hide her reaction.

Clueless to the connection, Petra continued with a dirty grin, "I didn't know Lord Buckethead had the attachments for that sort of naughtiness."

Leia peeked from her fingers. "Where did they find him?"

"They didn't release much in the way of details as yet; they're saving all that for the Convention. _But_ ," Petra focused his lusty eyes on the holo and slowly shook his head, "The heir is _not_ why I called you, sweetheart. You know you can dig up that dirt from elsewhere."

"Right. The 'Convention'." Leia nodded, then grinned, "Is that what they're calling a 'Senate' these days?"

"In point of fact," Petra rubbed his lips and smiled more, "they're refurbishing the Dome and raising signage to now call it 'The Palpatine Convention Center'."

With a silent, still-sleepy laugh, Leia threw her head back and hid her face in her forearms. The renaming of the Senate Dome wasn't anything to fuss over, but the reaction permitted a moment of panicked reflection. Her initial thought was the shock of another secret sibling, but her innate duty to the people turned her mind quickly to the political chess board. If Imperial Leaders were gathering to debate the legitimacy of Imperial Heirs, could they also be persuaded to debate the legitimacy of the _Empire_?

Yes and no. It was a tactic worth considering, and one frequently attempted by Mon Mothma before the original Senate was dissolved, but such discussions were always snipped at the roots with what would be coined as Palpatine's First Rule of the Senate: 'You can discuss anything you like except that which I don't want you to discuss.'

Perhaps they would have more success contesting the governmental structure of an Empire in the 'Convention Center' now that no Emperor was there to stomp out the topic, but that would mean the Alliance would have to send representatives from thousands of star systems—who lost lives and loved ones in this Civil War tearing themselves _away_ from Imperial claws—to now step bravely back into that lair on the thread of hope that the Grand Moffs would listen to reason.

Leia scrunched her mouth. She brought her face back to the comm desk and started—

Behind her, a hurricane crashed in the hall and manly laughter poured forth. Multiple voices of drunken rowdiness ricocheted through the apartment. Chewie warbled something. Lando cackled. Bodies fumbled and tumbled and fell into walls. Wedge was trying to finish his sentence through his snicker. Han hooted, "Bet!"

But it was poor Nien Nunb to come around the corner first and find the Minister of State not only awake but on a comm call with another man.

And her eyes sharp over her shoulder at the interruption.

Before Nien could blanch and jump for cover, the other men walked into the back of him. Each man twitched with his own unique cuss of alarm and circled like a pack of lost dogs to usher themselves back around the corner. Han was the last, of course, because his reaction was less humored than the rest, but before he could finish the full inhale of a shout, a furry fist grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back to the foyer.

Leia returned her face the holo image with a grin of embarrassment.

Petra clearly witnessed enough to understand what just happened. His eyes returned to her, now darkened with dirty ideas. "It's too bad you're not here, darling. What I wouldn't give to take a tumble with you again."

The 'tumble' to which he referred was nothing more than a political debate. They were still on topic and she knew it. Petra's steamy voice and luscious flick of his eyebrow was all for the benefit of their new eavesdropper.

At first, Leia considered giving Petra a glare to back off of the filthy insinuations, but she was humored by it too. Perhaps the drunk-husband-stumbling-home-in-the-middle-of-the-night-with-four-other-war-buddies deserved to squirm a little.

Petra's eyes glittered with humor. "This prom of Imperial acolytes is bound to attract all the cliques of the class." He angled his chin thoughtfully and crooned with intrigue. "Imagine the secret shindigs that might swirl like eddies in the massive current of this political orgy."

"Imagine," Leia smiled with warmth. "It's too bad I can't attend."

"Well, you're pregnant, luv, you shouldn't drink anyway."

She flashed a laugh.

"But if you _could_ be here," he said with awe of the possibilities, "of course I would insist you attend my party. Six of our old friends will be together again for the first time since our school days." His eyes smoldered at her with delicious intent.

Leia and Petra had almost no mutual 'friends'. They were never a part of any group that would have such a specific number. They never 'took a tumble' on the Senate floor. It was only the number six that made Leia certain as to his meaning and the purpose of his risky comm call. Prince Petra had the class, connections and _cajones_ to assemble all six representatives of the Serra Arm in a surreptitious meeting in the wake of an Imperial Convention.

Leia purred. "Sounds like I'm going to miss quite a bash."

Petra began an uncertain smile.

"Give my regards to the old gang," she said, adding pointedly, "and any other mutual friends you may see along the way."

Petra's blue eyes sparked. He nodded succinctly, clear that she received the message as intended. He reached for the button. "May the Force be with you, Cinnamon Buns."

"And with you," she teased back, "Ewok."

They hung up with the sharing of smiles.

The men were already pouring around the corner with new laughter and loud voices when Leia swiveled from the office chair to face them. Han spread his palms and shouted but Chewie grabbed the man from behind with a furry palm over his mouth. The Wookiee laughed as he translated what Han 'meant' to say. Wedge looked the most drunk but it was hard to tell if he was holding Lando upright or if it was the other way around. Nien shuffled soberly and dipped his chin with an apologetic mumble of his own.

Leia tried to scold the group with a glare, she really did, but she loved these men so much that she began to laugh at their antics. It must have been a hell of a birthday party, but these guys didn't just pick up any dumb excuse to celebrate like this. There had to be a bigger reason behind it.

And yet, there was a key member missing from this particular collection.

Her brows flitted, "Where's Luke?"

Nien laughed bashfully and Wedge stomped his boot and Lando smiled big and Chewie let go so Han could shout it too. All five raised victorious fists in the air as if the main mission of the entire war had just been won.

"Luke! . . . Is! . . . Getting! . . . _LAID!"_


	7. 06 Man in a Womens Barracks

The dream was glorious, so much so that Kess fought not to wake up. Her whole soul was vulnerable yet entirely safe in the strength of his sphere. She would give anything to rest in his light forever, even if it was only a dream.

But her circadian clock urged her to action. Soon, Kess would have to yank her ass out of bed for the grinder in the cold dawn, running silently beside him in the continuing drudgery to pretend she didn't want him. Until her alarm went off, however, Kess granted herself permission to cuddle deeper into that dream and imagine her pillow was his body.

Except that his body was in the way of her pillow.

An eye popped open.

The morning light made her bedroom glow in shades of moss, butter, and smoke. Hot blankets covered her nudity, and naked legs tangled with naked legs. Luke lay asleep on his side, his head curled over her on the pillow with his hair in his eyes. Big arms trapped her body in dead weight. Heavy breathing nearly snored.

Brown eyes dawned with love. Kess cuddled in, sliding softly not to wake him, and tucked her face under his chin. She closed her eyes to absorb every sense of this gorgeous morning for several delicious minutes.

Luke's head jerked up from the pillow with a hard sniff of sudden awakeness. Sleepy eyes shifted to discover the room he was in, then the daylight through the window, then down to the naked woman in his arms.

Kess peaked up and angled an eyebrow.

Luke snorted humor and dove his face back to the pillow. His arms constricted around her body and his smile grumbled into her hair. "For a second I thought I was late to meet you on the grinder."

In truth, her alarm was still set for an hour later than usual because of her bed rest and his weeklong mission. She slithered deeper into him and whispered into his neck. "You _are_."

He pulled back, "You _want_ to go running?"

A sneaky voice smiled up. "Not really."

They shared a sleepy chuckle. Luke settled, angling his ear on the pillow to see her, and looked at all parts of her face.

Brown eyes turned up and filled with gold emotion.

Fingers traced lazily on skin.

The sheets smelled of sex.

And the alarm kicked in. "Good morning. The time is Zero Six Zero Zero. You DIDN'T HAVE TO GO RUNNING TODAY, but now you have to get UP and fix Y-wings."

Kess hid her embarrassment in his naked breast. Luke sniggered into her hair. "Fixing Y-wings is your real punishment? Should've guessed that months ago."

"You're one to talk. You don't even have a fighter anymore."

Luke rolled partway to his back and combed his bangs from his eyes. "Oh blast. I gotta hop _Five_ back over to Rogue Group before Wedge blows a gasket."

Kess rolled with him and draped her arms across his torso. "I wouldn't be in such a hurry to turn her over to the man. You know what he's going to do with it, don't ya?"

"Yeah, I know." He looked her in the eye with the truth. "But I resigned. I don't have any rights to her anymore."

Kess flopped out her lower lip in a pout about that.

"Want to come help me?"

Eyebrows lifted into her forehead. "Help you? Fly _Five_? From one pad to the other?" She smiled like he'd gone mad. "You need 'help' with this?"

"Of course not, but—

"I would but I'm being 'punished' in the great land of Y-wings, remember? Commander Tolgray is a less than lenient when it comes to me leaving for Jedi errands."

"It's not a Jedi errand. Rogue Group Commander wants a word with you, doesn't he?"

"Yeah I know." Kess pushed herself off his body and sat up. "I went to report into him yesterday before knock-off but Han and Lando were already on the mission to hustle him out to the pub. I started to wonder if Wedge would really use official channels to yank me out for a birthday beer." She shrugged her hands in her lap and looked over her shoulder at him.

Luke sat up with a dismissive grumble. "Wedge wouldn't do that."

"I didn't think so." She felt his mouth resting on her naked shoulder from behind. "So what does he want to see me about?" She grinned over her shoulder at the boyish guilt peaking through his bangs. Her tone hiked higher, "And what do _you_ know about it?"

Blue eyes pouted like a pup for a moment more, then Luke burst into a big smile and hopped out of the bed. "You should go find out!"

Kess tried to whack his ass but he leapt out of reach before she could. The 'argument' continued in whispers as they threw clothes at each other's heads. Kess wrapped her body in a brown robe so she could jump into the shower, but she let him finish getting dressed before she opened the door.

Voices made noises in the living room.

His sparkle evaporated as his eyes and shifted to the door. Luke turned his back to her as he sat down on the bed to stuff on his boots.

Kess could sense the nerves constricting his throat. To leave this room now would advertise this to the world. Kess wasn't sure if Luke was ready for that yet. In caring, she considered popping out with a friendly diversion. She watched him stand up beside the bed as he finished donning his stinky clothes. He wrapped the tunic over his shoulders and left it flapping open like a broken sweater. His black uniform was crumpled from a cramped hyperspace flight and then spending the night on the floor in a pile. His hair was a mop in need of a helmet. Kess had never seen him so disheveled.

A rough knock rapped on the door. "Kess? You home?" It was Kayla's voice.

Eyes shifted to the door and back to each other. They could hear pieces of the girly girl debate out there. Kayla's true purpose was to verify Kess wasn't home as proof of the suspected tryst. Yana and Joann argued that Kess went to bed by herself.

Kess sighed apologetically. Luke's hands wrapped his belt home as he stared at her . . . and his mouth curled to grin like a cat with a feather in his mouth.

"Kess!" _Knock knock knock._ "I come bearing java in peace and apologies!"

Kess opened her mouth to offer—

Luke rolled his shoulders back and stepped into action. He sucked his lightsaber into his palm as he crossed the small room and hitched it onto his belt as he elbowed the door control.

He dropped his shoulder against the doorframe and angled his chin at Kayla. "Black with sugar. Apology accepted."

Kayla's jaw dropped. She spread her palm and took a step back, bowing with reverence.

Yana yelped and yanked her robe closed.

Joanne smacked sleepy behind her mug. "Wasn't expecting that."

"Well this truth comes with a condition," Luke plucked the paper cup from of Kayla's hand and scolded her with a pointed finger at her nose. "No more public jokes."

Kayla spread her hands in happy surrender. "Truce, baby!"

He sipped the cup as he strutted smugly away, and she came out after him. Luke strolled toward the door and Kess strolled toward the bathroom, each sharing cold words but with heated eyes.

"See you later."

"Bye."

He left.

She paused.

Joanne toasted her mug in the air like the words were profanity. "And may the _FORCE_ be with you!"

Kayla skipped and squeaked with victory. Kess spun with a growling cuss. Yana grunted grinning disbelief. Joanne laughed tightly.

Her cheeks were burning pink. "Stop making a big deal out of it or he won't come back."

"Sorry, sorry, sorry." Kayla tucked her yellow and magenta hair behind her ear with an adult sigh . . . and then giggled giddy again. "I'm sorry. I'm just so proud of you!"


	8. 07 Vice President Tessioni of Tyrona

Tyrona was the next system in the chain of the Serra Arm to crack when President Kulabata died of natural causes at the age of 172. The Imperial-controlled news media smeared the President's death as a Rebel assassination and conspiracy, but the hullabaloo never reached the ears of the Tyrona people.

Vice President Tesseoni facilitated the President's funeral proceedings and, per Tyrona's steep tradition, shut down all governmental operations for twenty days for a period of mourning. This custom was common amongst the Tyronans. Whole clans would reduce to basic means for a day or a week upon the death of a family member. It was only the death of the President that brought on this severe custom for the entire solar system.

A nature-worshipping culture, Tyrona's two inhabited planets and seven moons ceased all forms of production and halted all power generation for nearly a month. Environmental controls were powered off, from air-conditioning systems in business skyscrapers to the individual fireplaces in homes. All forms of transit were tucked away, from mass transport ships sheltered in their space stations to the toy cycles of children in their yards. What was usually a sophisticated and advanced culture was, by individual choice and tradition, reduced to candle-lit book reading, raw meals, and long walks to open-air markets of credit-less trading.

Naturally, all the vids were off so no one saw the news at all, much less fret over the Empire's bologna about a 'premature' death of the grandfatherly leader. Essential messages were reduced to ink and paper and traveled by couriers on foot, which did nothing for communication between planets, moons, and the rest of the Empire. Respectfully, embassies located in the Tyrona System brought their electronic and hyperspace communication to halt, breaking the tradition only enough to get the word out that they were going dark and why.

Imperial fleets in the area boldly remained at a readiness state to 'defend' the planets while they suffered in their tender state of depression. Imperial Military communication was the only noise on the subspace channels throughout the solar system for the duration. It made the Imperials feel proud and important, and it completely deafened the Empire to the real communication that was really happening.

Case in point, no one noticed when Vice President Tesseoni went 'missing'.

But _everyone_ noticed when Mon Mothma went 'missing'.

Four days on Chandrila were, publicly, just a long weekend of rest with her daughter's family. Privately, however, there was no such thing as a 'weekend' for the Chief Commander.

The security detail swarmed the home village and blocked all un-scrutinized access to the tea gardens, farms and parks in the area for kilometers. Naturally, Mon Mothma's assistants buzzed around her like a bee hive for the entire stay, trying to keep incessant business at bay but flitting in at frequent intervals with whispered reports and quick questions.

Even in the seclusion of her daughter's light and spacious home, Mon Mothma handled it all with the poise and professionalism of a finely programmed protocol droid, never once showing a flit of impatience at the steady stream of work. She seemed sad and tired, however, and her daughter pointed that out with a light comment of her own. "You need a real break, Mother."

Mon Mothma glanced to her daughter as Lieda served a tray of tea on the drink table. For a moment, she considered at what depth of honesty she should answer the comment, but a moment later, she decided not to say anything at all.

Lieda moved to sit down in the other fine chair and pulled the cup and saucer in front of her. The young woman sipped in silence before speaking in a mutter. "Perhaps a quiet walk in the tea garden will replenish you."

Lieda's eyes, curiously, never moved her mother to press the suggestion.

The elder was feeling fine, certainly no more overwhelmed or stressed than any other visit. Her eyes moved to take in the body language of her daughter across the sitting area and found it a touch stiffer than usual. She watched.

Lieda stared at nothing for a long moment, carefully set down the teacup, and finally met her mother's eyes with a careful grin.

"Perhaps I shall." Mon Mothma nodded, setting down her teacup and motioned to her security detail as to her intentions.

Even if the walk was a mysterious ruse, the blossoming green of the grasses offered a breath of replenishing faith. Mon Mothma closed her eyes to feel the sun on her face, inhaled a deep sigh to drink in the scented breezes and exhaled layers of pressure and worry.

She opened her eyes again to find the tall, thin body of Vice President Tesseoni standing on the footbridge beside her.

Mon Mothma grinned secretly, but for only a moment. She rested her wrists on the railing and spoke with soft sincerity, "I am so sorry for your loss."

"President Kulabata was a good man, but he was also an old man," Tesseoni smiled sadly, her voice low and even. She shook her head at Mon Mothma. "I wouldn't be here if I thought your people had anything to do with it."

Mon Mothma eyed the peace of the lotus pond. "I am honored you would visit me during this time of mourning."

"Until Tyrona holds elections, I uphold the sunset of his leadership." Tesseoni stared out at the calm water and the lily pads gracing its surface. "Which means I have little time to get anything done."

Respect deepened.

"Kulabata was weakened by old grudges between Tyrona and our sister systems in the Serra Arm." Tesseoni set a delicate hand on the bridge railing and turned to meet the other woman in the eye. "I'm not so old or so sensitive. And I couldn't care less what our neighbors think of me."

Wearing almost matching pearl suits, Mon Mothma faced Tesseoni with honor. "Something I've always admired in you."

Tesseoni scoffed. "I don't care what you think of me either."

Mon Mothma shrugged a gentle frown and, almost imperceptibly, grinned.

"I will be taking the President's seat at this Imperial 'Convention'." Tesseoni announced, easily sliding her long fingers in the front pockets of her white slacks. She strolled away in thought and swiveled back on her heals to face the Chief Commander again. "Incidentally, I am also considering accepting an invitation to one of Prince Petra's crazy parties during my stay on Coruscant."

Mon Mothma bowed a chin of understanding.

With a cocked jaw, Tesseoni added. "But it will be a waste of my time to attend his lewd revelry if I'm the only other member of the Serra family there."

"Agreed."

"Similarly," Tesseoni strolled a step back over, "it will be a waste of my time if _you_ didn't have a representative at the party as well."

Although the Chief Commander was a full head shorter than the other woman, Mon Mothma stood as tall and firm as if she were twenty times larger. "The Alliance has already done all it can to facilitate a union between the systems of the Serra Arm."

Tesseoni flattened her mouth with disappointment.

Mon Mothma spread her hands. "We have no desire to force the six of you to agree to anything. All we can do is offer each of you seats in a real Senate, where you can retain your individualities and command of your own star systems _should_ you decide to break from the Empire."

Tesseoni shook her head at the woman. "You know none of us can defend ourselves if we break from the Empire. The only way the Serra Arm can switch sides is if we all go together."

"And together, with Alliance military support, you can hold back most, if not all, of the violent backlash from the Imperial Navy." This was old news. _Why are we still talking about this?_

Tesseoni eyed her firmly, trying to press the matter further.

Even if all members of the Serra Arm started dancing to the same tune, they would still be at grave risk if they didn't have the Alliance firepower in their backyards _immediately_. But the Alliance had exponentially more systems to protect than it had military to do it. Although the old 'Rebellion' now dressed in official team colors, the Alliance's focus was about its strong and steady Senate, about the rights of individual systems to govern and protect themselves from each other. The Chief Commander found it almost humorous that she spent most of her time explaining to everyone that she was in charge of the federal military, _not_ the Alliance Senate that told the military what to do.

Tesseoni wanted Mon Mothma to promise Alliance Forces would help defend the Serra Arm the moment the six planets seceded. Mon Mothma was confident she would be able to keep such a promise, but the point was that it wasn't Mon Mothma's promise to make.

Before the Alliance Senate could vote on sending defensive forces to the Serra Arm, the Serra Arm would need representatives in the Alliance Senate to call the vote.

Catch .22

"We have already extended our hand." Mon Mothma eyed her. " _You_ must make the next move."

"Timing is critical, Chief Commander," Tesseoni stressed. "If you don't have someone—"

" _Trust me, Tess_ ," Mon Mothma stopped her with a whisper and just eyed the other woman with political intent and honest friendship. "Prince Petra's 'party' has already been brought to our attention."

Tesseoni moved her mouth to speak but stopped herself, nodded, pressed a grin, and nodded again as she turned away. "Thank you for your condolences."

"May the Force be with you."


	9. 08 Got Nothing Done

Kess was thrilled to be a nobody again. She'd been gone from Pad 9 for so long that her Floor Supervisor billet was long filled by someone else. As soon as her health recovered to full duty status, Kess returned to Gold Group as the lowest wrench on proverbial totem pole. She was in charge of no ships, no personnel, no stat reports, no flight ops. For the woman who incidentally just completed her Jedi training and saved all of Yavin Base with her bravery in the Battle of the Line, her boss couldn't compute putting her on the grubby chores. But whenever Shorkey mentioned that Lendra should be doing something more important, Commander Tolgray exuded a fierce displeasure. Gold GC seemed to feel that Kess had outgrown her britches during all that business and needed to be put back in her place.

Kess didn't care. She performed the grubby chores with a smile. Especially today when most of her brain wanted nothing more than to daydream about last night. His smile. His eyes. His voice. His stupid, goofy giggle. . . . Training is over. Rogue Group is over. He's home. She's healthy. . . .

No one paid her any attention at morning muster; no one pulled her aside to the manager's office afterwards. With a wistful grin, Kess resumed her filthy project of checking and changing the oil valve gaskets on all twelve Y-wings. Because of an old repair hack, Gold Eight had a custom flange and washer and Kess delighted in the simple puzzle of filing down a better gasket size so the poor girl didn't leak so much, thinking all the while that she had only seven and a half hours to go before she could abscond with Luke somewhere and practice not being Jedi at all.

But the bliss didn't last.

What at first seemed nothing more than a momentary inconvenience ended up being a hard About Face for her entire life. Kess would forever look back on _this_ morning as the last time she turned a wrench for a Rebel Squadron.

Kess was squatting on a crate with a metal file and the custom gasket when Geoffrik strolled up. "Shorkey wants to see you in the office."

She glanced up, acknowledged it with a nod, and reviewed her work. The gasket wasn't ready yet but it was getting close. And, apparently, she broke another fingernail. "I'll be right back." As she strolled across the Pad, she stuffed the gasket in a breast pocket and used the metal file to sand off a sharp splinter on her middle finger.

It never occurred to her what the gesture looked like from the Manager's Office.

Before she'd entered the door, she could feel tension on the Force. All five of Gold Group's command were in there, each carrying their own distasteful emotion about whatever just happened. Commander Tolgray simmered like a slowly heating kettle. Kess had a hard time not staring back.

She stepped in front of Shorkey's desk and nearly whispered it. "Reporting as ordered?"

Shorkey flattened his mouth and flipped out a datapad at her. "Last chance. Figure out what the kriff he wants and be done with it."

Kess took the pad and flipped it around to read. It was another request from Rogue GC—Commander Antilles—respectfully requesting an hour of her time. She read enough text to get the gist of his apology that he was occupied elsewhere when Lt Lendra had come by yesterday.

With a tongue in her molar, she handed the datapad back to Shorkey. "Sorry about that."

"This is _it_ though," Shorkey insisted with a hard gesture. "No more hops to Pad 14. No more Jedi vacations. You're with Gold Group now."

Kess nodded hard obedience. "I'll make it quick."

She marched hard out of Complex A and down the quad for almost a half a klick to march into Complex B. Signs of the Battle of the Line were everywhere, from pallet runners overweight with parts, to broken fighters being picked apart, to the growing pile of metallic ship pieces that were doomed for the recyclers. Even the army had a presence as ground troops were marching in formation around the travelway with stuffed duffels on their backs and heading for a troop transport. Suspense flowed on the Force like a anxious undercurrent as if everyone secretly knew a bigger storm was coming.

If she paused to think about it, Kess did too. The Empire never entirely regained the strength of its footing after Palpatine died. And now, five weeks after his successor was dead, they were _still_ looking for an heir to take up the torch? It didn't take a military genius or political operative to know that Coruscant was in the Rebellion's cross-hairs.

Coming around the travelway to Rogue Group felt like coming home. Save for brief and distracted visits, she hadn't seen Pad 14 in nearly two months. They too were All Hands On Deck, repairing X-Wings as fast as they could, with the bay doors open to the cloudy day. The Millennium Falcon took up too much space in the front corner as usual and was the only ship not covered in repair crew. Green coveralls infested the X-Wings like ticks. Even the khaki-wearing pilots were lending a hand on every bird. Kess's eyes took in hints of status at a glance. _Seven_ and _Five_ were missing, and _Eleven_ was slumped onto its parking spot as though it had dropped like a rock from a hundred meters up. In the depths of the mess, Ashten was holding her green forehead with her palm as she looked over a shipment manifest, Kayla was filthy from head to toe, Neilson was nowhere to be found, and Wedge was sitting in the open cockpit of _Three_.

As Kess strode down the pie-shaped landing bay, several old workmates greeted her with a hello or a wave. She enjoyed the familiar buzz as her feet closed the distance to the fighter. Josey fidgeted with a diag unit under the X-wing's belly, R7 warbled his adjustments from the socket, and Wedge read off the results from the cockpit in low barks. "No. Nothing. I got nothing."

"Doesn't make any sense," Josey complained below, and got up from the unit. "I'm going to try another 23G."

Kess climbed up the ladder and hooked her elbow around the rail as if she was prepping the pilot for launch. "Hey. You wanted to see me?"

Wedge barely noticed Kess before he curled over the side of the cockpit and yelled down at Josey. "Well, I was getting readings just fine _before_ you 'fixed it'!"

The crew didn't outwardly react, but Kess could feel the jerks of defensive emotion around them. The GC was in a rotten mood so the crew was bracing themselves for a bad day.

Wedge slumped back in the cockpit with a tested sigh. His black brows knitted so hard together they were one. He looked at Kess like he was about to rip her throat out.

Her own brows knitted with concern. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He shrugged it off. He rubbed an eyelid, propped both elbows on the edge of the cockpit, and blinked hard to force his focus onto her. Wedge looked more furious than Kess had ever seen him, but Kess didn't sense any anger on Force. In fact, he emitted no sharp emotion of any kind. She reached out her senses a little more. . . .

Wedge was in _pain_.

It took a second to put the clues together, then Kess softened her smiling voice. "Oh my stars, you've got a hangover."

The man shifted harsh eyes to shut her up before saying it too loud. "Don't tell the crew."

Kess nearly laughed. "Oh, honey, I think that ship has already hit hyperspace."

Wedge grumbled a dismissing explicative.

"You Correllians really go big for birthdays, don't you?"

He scratched an earlobe. "We were actually celebrating a victory of, um, greater significance."

"Oh?"

He closed his eyes, shook his head, and grinned hard. "Don't worry about it."

"Ok—ay?" Kess could only chuckle at the man's miserable state. "Wedge, can I—?" She reached into the cockpit and touched his elbow. "D'you mind if I do you a little favor?"

"Um?" He squinted, untrusting. "Don't know. Do I?"

"Trust me on this." Kess gently gripped his nearby elbow. "Close your eyes."

Wedge gave her an uncertain grin, as if he somehow knew he was going to regret this in the long run, but he did it anyway and braced for something odd.

She too closed her eyes and focused. She reached into Wedge's essence and tugged out a tiny piece of playfulness that was hiding in the corner of his mind. She deliberately ignored what wasn't her business and, for the glimpse she did catch, grinned to discover that he was pretty much the same mess as everyone else. It was comforting to see the proof that Wedge Antilles was just, plain, normal.

She tugged at his playfulness like it was a loose string until it unraveled into a growing nest of pale colors. Then she used that to fluff over the pain of his hangover. She heard him grunt with surprise then exhale with relief as if she'd lifted an anvil off his chest.

She never touched him more than his visible elbow, and the whole thing was over in seconds. The trick was temporary at best, she knew, for his pain was physical and not emotional, but this would soften the distraction enough that he could function until the real solution kicked in. "You should switch to vitamin juice for the day," she told him kindly. "You're dehydrated."

Wedge opened bulging brown eyes like she'd just given him an intravenous shot of awesome-sauce. "Whoa." His brows no longer knitted. His mouth no longer scowled. "Oh wow." He coughed a weird smile and blinked over wide eyes until he found her again. "Thank you."

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yeah. I do. I need to talk to you but," he glanced for Josey's status. "Not here. Come with me to the office." Wedge motioned her to back away so he could climb out.

Kess slid down the ladder and landed on the duracrete with a stomp. Wedge landed a second later. They came around the fighter together only to find Admiral Drayson approaching the manager's office with a fat datafolio in his arms.

"Commander Antilles," the elder rebel called out at them. "I have a plan to fill your cockpits."

In the middle of their march, Wedge nodded and glanced to Kess—

"I don't have a lot of time," she warned quietly.

 _Bzzt Zzat. Bzzt Zzat. Bzzt_ _Zzat._ The Flight Ops alarm bleated from the Pad's overhead speakers. A craft was on approach and the Control Tower needed a Flight Ops to hail it in. Boots slowed as eyes looked up. Wedge didn't need to see the X-wing to know which one it was. Kess's eyes hung at the sky a little longer just to enjoy the sight of _that_ X-wing hovering high over the open ceiling.

But she sighed for patience too. _I don't have time for this._

Wedge motioned to the Flight Ops locker and Admiral Drayson, respectfully. "You take care of one, I'll take care of the other, then we'll hide in the droid locker if we have to."

Kess acquiesced to the request but yelled at his back. "Drink some vitamin juice!"

Wedge gestured compliance and rushed to a trot to join the Admiral in the office.

Kess looked around for Neilson but still couldn't find him, and when Ashten saw that Kess was headed for the Flight Ops locker already, the green woman stayed at her complex puzzle of sorting out a parts shipment.

Bubble headset closed over her ears and mouthpiece hovered from her neck. Kess glanced up at the belly of _Five_ in the high air and hit the button. "Control. Rogue Flight. Logging in per request. Over."

She felt Luke's humor splash out. Kess guessed that she was known enough by now that every ear tuned into Radio Free Yavin would recognize her voice as well as he did. As silly as this seemed, her stomach knotted. The news that Kess was serving Flight Ops for Luke's landing on a Pad at which neither were assigned would make it back to Gold Group before she did. Fault had no bearing on the matter; Kess was going to face sharp discipline over this.

"Rogue Flight. Control. Rogue Five on approach to Pad 14. Call the ball. Over."

"Control. Rogue Flight. Roger ball. We got him. Over and out."

Seidrick had already appeared with lighted wands and Rogue Five gently lowered to the deck. Kess unraveled herself from the Flight Ops gear and rolled the ladder over to the relaxing ship. The canopy raised as she climbed up. She hooked her elbow around the rail and reached to take his helmet. "I've got to talk to you."

As both pairs of hands worked the routine to shut down the ship, Luke's eyes met hers in a look that was brief but crystal clear. _Here?_

"Only because it can't wait any longer." She shimmied down the ladder to let him out. This all may be fun and sweet but they still had work to do. There was a war on. And even if there wasn't a war on, they still had work to do. As part of the routine, they both stepped to the underbelly to secure _Five's_ chocks and lower Artoo out of his socket. Kess keep her voice significantly low, "I need a clarification of certain things."

Luke's eyes shifted for eavesdroppers before squinting at her craziness. _This morning wasn't enough for you?_ He let out a tested sigh and turned his feet to march toward the office.

"No. Wait. Listen." Kess jumped into his path. "Can I be honest with you about something?"

Luke arched his brow and kept his voice lower than hers. "If we're not there by now, we're in big trouble."

"Fine. Look. Tolgray's pissed that Wedge called me back over here. I know _you_ know why. And you know _I don't_." She huffed, then continued. "There will always be a part of this that's Master and Apprentice. Or Commander to Lieutenant. Whatever. It may fade with time but it'll never entirely go away. And you know that."

He shrugged a shoulder, reluctant to agree to that.

She eyed him, then eyed the soldiers and pilots moving quickly around them at work. "You are still the Rebellion's Living Legend and you always will be. And it doesn't matter which flight group I report to, if Jedi duty calls. . . . " she angled her chin.

Luke eyed the ground beneath his feet, nodding acknowledgement of what this was really about.

"Commander Tolgray is one thing, but what if the Chief Commander gives me one order and you give me another? Who am I supposed to listen to?"

Luke took a step back to struggle with all this and shifted his gaze to the Pad, where all of Rogue Group worked furiously to recover from the Battle of the Line. Not only did he avoid answering her question, he avoided looking her in the eyes, and she could sense it.

Her whisper went quieter and sharper at the same time. "I need a clear chain of command."

He winced and scratched the hair beside his ear. "Um, I really can't—

With a huff of impatience, Kess raised her voice. "I'm just asking for your guidance, dammit!"

Luke shrugged hard and raised his voice to a matching shout. "And I'm not going to give it to you!"

 _Now_ they'd done it.

The Force prickled with everyone's attention. Heads looked over shoulders. Eyes peaked from projects. There was more to this discussion than was visible on the surface, and everyone knew it, but even if neither of them were assigned to Rogue Group anymore, Pad 14 in the middle of a work day was not the place to discuss this.

Her head reared back. He spread his hands and dropped them from his shrug. They stared at each other with the whole truth trapped in their eyes.

Luke was the first to calm and sigh. His eyes glanced to the troops resuming work. He stepped closer only to lower his voice and tighten his eyes. "Don't give this one to me, Kess. I don't want it."

Her whisper was just as stiff. "I'm just asking for your advice."

"No, you're not." He whispered back, hard. "You're asking me to tell you to resign your commission."

She closed her mouth.

"Or you're asking me to stop calling on you for the _very Jedi help_ I trained you to be."

Kess looked at the floor. "I guess I just," she lifted her head and shook it helplessly, "wanted to know which one you'd prefer as . . . y'know."

"I appreciate that," he murmured. "But you'd _take_ it as an order."

Kess had to sigh hard to realize he was right. He was right. Even if she was really only asking her best friend and suitor, she'd take the answer as though it came from her former Commander or Jedi Master. Although the original confusion was fast unraveling, their relationship was still convoluted enough to be careful with certain insinuations. The very reason she was asking was the very reason he couldn't answer.

Luke turned his feet to resume his march, but he paused long enough to whisper again, this time with sincerity. "We'll figure it out. But _later_."

Kess watched him go with a defeated huff. She sensed the minds around them, and how many were pretending not to notice their whispered argument with rolling-eyed humor. Kess laughed weakly at herself, at this continuing folly with him in front of all of Rogue Group.

With Luke's back suitably turned, Kess completed the tradition for benefit of the crew and 'loudly' flipped the man off.

Rogue Group smiled in secret. Even Ashten tucked a frowning shrug as if to say, _Meh, they're fine._

Moments later, Luke strutted into the manager's office with Kess at his heels and invaded a deep discussion over empty billets.

Antilles lifted his head to Luke with a simple query, "Is she's mine?"

Luke shrugged easy, "I'm done with her for now."

"You can't keep borrowing her," Drayson warned Luke.

Kess squeaked. "Maybe I should come back later?"

Drayson pointed an ordering finger at the empty desk behind him. "Sit down. We'll get to you in a minute."

Kess's eyes shifted from Luke to Wedge and back again. She stepped around the desk and slumped down in Neilson's chair.

Wedge eyed Luke, "There's been talk about letting you keep her in case you need her for a mission."

Luke's brow scrunched. "Why?"

Kess blinked back.

"Because she doesn't do us any good without Artoo," Wedge said, now motioning Ashten that it was okay for her to come through the door too. The woman handed Wedge a ship stat report which seemed to say exactly what Wedge expected it to say. He shrugged at Luke with it. "They've been linked up for so long they're a custom pair now."

Luke scrunched his mouth to the side.

Custom pair? With Artoo? It finally dawned on Kess. They weren't talking about her. They were talking about _Her_. Like a tusken raider to his bantha, she thought, and watched Luke struggle with the idea of having to give up Artoo and _Five_ just so the custom pair could continue working together.

Drayson put a palm out toward Luke. "Let's just have Rogue borrow both for the time being and we'll reconsider her permanent assignment later."

Arms still crossed at his chest, Luke nodded with succinct agreement. He half turned on his heels to go. "Anything else?"

Wedge gestured oddly and grinned anew. "Same question, different her." His gesture landed in a sideways aim at Kess.

Luke's smile caught oddly—

Drayson threw both palms in the air. "I'm staying out of that one." He strutted to the door with one last order at Antilles. "Send me a short list by close of business."

"Aye, sir."

Now, with only the four of them in the room, Wedge looked to Luke for an answer. Luke eyed Kess with unfinished discussion. Kess shrugged hard at Ashten not having an explanation. And Ashten shifted awkward eyes. "Should I step out?"

Luke flashed a hearty laughter. Wedge pinched his nose and groaned about a returning headache.

Kess pushed up from the desk and ordered Wedge, "Go drink some vitamin juice before I kick you in the head."

Ashten took long slow sneaky steps to get out of the way of all this, but Luke stopped the green woman with a touch on her elbow and a placating smile. "No, it's okay, Ashten." Then, to Wedge, with significance, and to Kess, with equal significance. "This one isn't up to me."

Wedge nodded, rubbing his temple, and turned to Kess—

 _Twee twee tweet._ Luke pulled up his commlink. "Skywalker." He eyed Kess once more before turning to the door.

 _Twee twee tweet._ Wedge reached for the button on his desk. "Antilles."

"Luke." It was Leia. "I need you in the CIC Bunker."

"Commander?" It was Tolgray. "You've had her long enough. Send Lendra back to Pad 9 _immediately_."

"On my way."

"Willco. She's coming."

 _Click_.

 _Click_.

Luke turned to the door but hovered. Kess pushed up from the desk but paused. She and Wedge never completed the discussion she came here for.

Wedge closed his eyes and raised his palms, "Y'know what? Let's just," he struggled for words, then shined his grinning brown eyes directly at Kess. "I'll come by after knock-off and we'll talk over a hot cup."

Hovering hands shrugged harder. And Kess wasn't the only one who didn't understand what was going on. Ashten's eyes bulged at Wedge.

The silence shattered when Luke threw his head back with laughter. He turned to the door and patted Ashten once on the back of her shoulder as he left. "Relax."

Wedge also chortled at the misunderstanding, but he whipped a finger toward the door. "Get back to Gold Group before Tolgray shoots one over my bow."

Kess left the room sharing shrugs with Ashten but they had to leave the question unanswered. Out on the travelway, Luke grabbed a runner headed for the Council Building. Kess turned her boots the other way for Gold Group, interruption completed.

And yet Kess got nothing done.


	10. 09 Angry Tolgray and Madine

Kess wanted nothing more to get this beating over with so she could get back to filing down that custom oil valve flange. She tried to meditate as she marched and reported as ordered to the Gold Group once more. Inside the managers' office were the five of Gold command, but now also General Madine stood on the side as if waiting in line to yell at her too.

"General, would you please close the door."

Upon entry to the stewing room, Lt Lendra instinctively snapped to attention, stood stiff and stared at nothing.

Commander Tolgray threw a datapad with a clatter. Other managers stiffened at their desks to wait this out. Madine stepped back into her view and crossed his arms in silence.

"You're either in my squadron or you're not." Tolgray pressed his palms to his desk and drilled his anger into Kess. "I'm not going to have a fair-weather engineer on my team only showing up for work when you don't have more important things to do. I don't care if you're a Jedi, you tell that boyfriend of yours he's got to leave you to your assignments."

Embarrassment stabbed Kess in the gut.

"Ex _cuse_ me?" Madine barked. "Skywalker is a Jedi Master and a decorated pilot and deserves more respect out of you—

Tolgray yelled back—and louder—before Madine had even finished his sentence. "I don't care if he's the second coming of the Messiah; no one has the right to pluck _my_ crew off _my_ pad without _my_ approval!"

Madine nearly smiled, "In point of fact, there is one who does."

Shorkey scolded her from the side. "Lendra, you were supposed to handle this."

"I don't know what we're talking about." Kess shrugged out of her attention, "Antilles and I agreed to handle the rest of it off the clock."

Tolgray stood tall and whipped a pointed finger in the air at her. "I heard you on Flight Ops—

"Oi!" Madine silenced them all with an army shout. "Look! Tolgray! Antilles didn't send me! _Skywalker_ didn't sent me!" He thumbed over his shoulder. "I don't know what all that's about, but _this_ ," he jabbed at the floor in front of him, "is coming down from the Chief Commander. The order was issued _this_ morning. And we need _her_ in the CIC bunker _right now!"_

Tolgray threw his hands up the air. "Fine. Whatever. Dismissed."

Kess fumbled apologies. "I'll be back as soon as I can—

"Yeah don't be surprised when you get re-ass'ed to Hoth when you get back." Tolgray dropped into his desk chair and fumed.

Madine motioned her to leave before she said anything else. Shaking with confusion, Kess climbed into the runner and tried to meditate before stomach imploded. Her skin prickled with stress. Madine stomped on the speed pedal and wet wind blew the sweat from her brow.

She huffed low. "What the hell is going on?"

Madine grinned the obvious. "Tolgray got his toes stomped on."

"I mean—

He turned a corner and drove them out to the quad. "Can't blame him for it. No one likes working with a subordinate who outranks you."

"I'm a Lieutenant grease monkey!" She coughed. "I don't outrank the GC of Gold Group!"

Madine cocked a glance at her that she was being an idiot.

 _Jedi errands_.

Kess cussed.

She didn't know how to explain that it would be inappropriate for her to quit her day job and report to Master Skywalker on a full time basis. Even if she and Luke were separated to different entities to serve their Jedi roles, Knighthood didn't have the capacity to function as a full time job. Jedi didn't draw a paycheck! They had no rights to a barracks room! Where would she live? What would she eat?

She exhaled a defeated huff. "General—

"Oh please, Kess, we've both been in this rebellion longer than that. Call me Crix."

He dove the runner down into basement parking of the Council Building.

"Crix . . . I could really use some sound advice on this and, honestly, I can't ask Luke."

Madine's mouth grinned with dark understanding. "Copy that."

She sighed hard. "You heard him. Tolgray is going to fire me if I keep popping off the pad for Jedi stuff—

He stomped on the brakes and the runner skidded to a stop, but Madine dropped back in the driver's chair with a shrug. "So quit."

"But, Crix, I'm a repair grunt! I'm only Luke's lab rat apprentice. I'm not going to be jumping into the fray to save the galaxy!"

Crix turned his beard to her, speaking soldier to soldier. "Why not?"

Kess shut her mouth. She huffed a breath out of her nose.

Crix shut down the runner but he didn't get out yet. He shifted in the driver's chair so he could eye her with impatience. "What makes you think _any of us_ thought we could 'jump into the fray and save the galaxy.' None of us did it alone. We all did it together." He squinted at her like she was nuts for thinking otherwise. "The rebellion didn't win because of Luke Skywalker or because we have the Jedi on our side. The rebellion won because we all worked for it. All of us jumped into the fray _not_ expecting to win. Not even expecting to live! Luke wouldn't have won at the Death Star if his wingman wasn't willing to die to protect his flank. _Those_ are the heroes, Kess. Not the ones who live to get the medals." As if pissed at her for even asking, Crix jumped out of the runner with a scoff.

"Biggs." Kess climbed out and met his march across the empty garage to the elevator, eating crow all by herself. "His name was Biggs."

Crix glanced over.

"Frond, Wilkerson, and Joust died in the Battle of the Y-Wing to save my hide." She met his eye and stopped her feet, pissed at him for making her explain it in painful detail. "But I'm afraid I don't have the list of the _thousands_ that died in the Battle of the Line just to save _my_ hide." She stressed hard at Madine. "That's what I'm talking about! We lost good people just to save _my_ grease grunt hide?"

Madine snarled at her audacity. "You got yourself kidnapped? And raped? Just to save your _own hide_?"

Her eyes squinted. "No, that's not—

"You sacrificed your life to save all these people!" He nearly shouted at her, pointing at nothing in the empty hall. "And you almost didn't succeed. I can't believe I've got to be the one to tell you this: What is your real duty here, Lendra? Where can the rebellion best use what _you've_ got to offer?"

She sobered.

Madine cocked a brow at her. "You want my advice? Put away the wrench." He motioned to her lightsaber. "You've got a new tool now."

Kess rubbed her lips, humbled, as she had guessed she would be after asking advice from this man. Maybe that's why the Force drew her into _this_ place at _this_ moment so she could ask _this_ man. She swallowed hard, sighed slowly, and nodded at nothing.

"Now." With attitude, Crix Madine ushered her kindly to the elevator. "Are you ready to see why I say that?"

Eyes stretched to realize where they were. She nearly forgot all this began with a summons to the command center from Mon Mothma herself. And Kess was specifically summonsed to the extent of sending General Madine to come get her?

Kess blew up at her bangs and braced herself as she stepped into the lift.


	11. 10 Heir

An unknown number of floors beneath the moon's surface, the elevator doors opened to a dark CIC bunker. Red and blue LEDs blinked from equipment and light boards scanned yellow lines of new data, but no one was looking at any of that. Dozens of figures crowded the center dais where the holo-projecter was just now blinking off. Kess followed Madine's flank toward the meeting, noticing how the Force reeked with worry and calculations. Her sights took in all the recognizable faces. Ackbar. Mon Mothma. Solo. Sikey. Leia. Dodonna. Reeikan. Calrissian. . . . The list went on and on. All of them stiff faced and staring. All of them silent.

Even Luke was there, sitting with the inner circle with his elbows on his knees and his head hanging to stare at the floor. Luke pulsated with stress.

Alert to learn what was going on, Kess sat at an unmanned terminal near Lando and tried to remain invisible in all this.

"Is it possible?" Mon Mothma asked gently.

Leia stood over the holo-projector as if she were about to throw up in it. She shrugged a hand, "I-I guess it could be." She gestured across the way to Luke. "You were the last one to see him alive. Was he still . . . _intact_?"

Luke chortled sickly. "I didn't check for that." He met Leia's eyes across the space. "But I doubt it. There wasn't much left of him after Mustafar. That's what the suit and helmet were for."

Han murmured. "This guy could just as easily be older than you, _before_ the suit and helmet."

Kess realized they were talking about Vader, and another offspring of Vader. The blood drained from her fingers.

Ackbar waved a fin. "For the sake of argument, how do we know these reports simply aren't referring to you?"

Luke shrugged his fingers with a vague grin. "Because I'm sitting right here?"

Leia shook her head at Ackbar. "Because they 'have' him. The contact said she _saw_ the heir. She just couldn't get snapshots. She would have recognized him if they were just making a mock-up Luke. No, this is someone new."

Madine shifted his boots and scrunched his brows. "How could it be that the _Empire_ doesn't know you two are Skywalkers?"

Sikey gestured too. "I know we're keeping it from the general public, and for good reason, but we're talking about the Imperial high command."

Leia shrugged at Sikey. "They know we're Skywalkers. Of course they know. And _everyone_ knows Skywalker was a Jedi. What they _don't know_ was that it was _Skywalker_ that became _Vader_."

The only well known fact was that, in the waning _moments_ of the Clone War, two famous Jedi went to Mustafar to duke it out. One left with Palpatine to become Vader, and the other went missing. At that point, it didn't matter which one it was. All that mattered to the galaxy was that a Jedi turned to the Dark Side and became Darth Vader. Nowadays, it was also well known that the Skywalker half of that equation had children. But what real proof did they have that the Kenobi half didn't?

Dodonna nodded to that. "The reports say it's Vader's offspring. No one said anything about him being Skywalker's offspring."

"And all they need is a DNA-proven offspring of 'Palpatine or one of his high command'." Madine noted, "So we have to move fast before he takes the throne."

Ackbar added, "If they get the chance to put all the right data in the right places, the proof behind their heir is going to be as tight as a drum."

"We need to buy time."

"We could delay the convention with an attack."

Madine shook his head, "We're not ready for an attack on Coruscant yet."

"Especially when we don't have the Serra Arm systems _guaranteed_ to be in our corner."

"What if we produced our own heir?" Sikey suggested, carefully eyeing Luke and Leia.

Luke and Leia looked at each other and both grinned at that nonsense, but the question deserved to be asked. Luke pushed to his feet with resolve in his answer. "Admitting to the galaxy that I'm am Darth Vader's son would irreparably weaken the resolve of the Alliance senate."

"They're going to figure it out sooner or later," Sikey warned.

Leia nodded at Luke's answer. "But the later the better. Give him a chance to grow the New Jedi Order to have more than just his face on it."

"Agreed," Mon Mothma said.

Ackbar was on a different thought, "But the idea has merit. All we need is an heir to contest the legitimacy of _their_ heir long enough for the Serra Arm to break ranks before he's declared the next Emperor."

Reeikan warned, "Lord Vader was second in command. We'd need a Vader offspring that somehow ranks higher the order of succession."

"Or a Palpatine offspring," Han noted.

Lando spread his hands. "If there was such a person, he would have shown up by now."

Luke was smiling secretively now, but his voice was clear. "Not if she doesn't know who she is."

All eyes turned to Luke. Luke's eyes grinned at Kess.

Kess blinked back. "Wait _what_?"

Mon Mothma stepped to the holo-projector in calculating thought. "Palpatine had several mistresses over the course of his reign, each lasting from a few months to several years. Now, true, we never heard about any offspring from any of them, but they did, oddly and often, _disappear_." She spread her palms. "We all thought they were killed for insubordination or similar injustice. But isn't it just as likely that perhaps one escaped?" She turned to Kess and angled her head. "And sought out one of the few remaining Jedi Knights known to have survived Order 66?"

Kess's stomach went hollow.

Kesselia Kenobi Lendra was raised to believe that her grandfather was a Jedi, so much so that she was granted the middle name. Yet, recently, Old Dead Obi Wan glowed up to set the record straight. Alexi Lendra was already a single mother with one Force-sensitive baby and another in the oven when Ben Kenobi met the girl by chance in the streets of Mos Eisley, some two years after Emperor Palpatine rose to power.

Although theirs was a dysfunctional family to the acidic extreme, Dane Lendra raised Kess as his own daughter to the extent that Kess never questioned her true parentage until this very moment. Kess had no idea who her real father was.

Her eyes turned to Luke. Her toes went numb.

Luke struggled to trap it, but he grinned tightly anyway. _Welcome to my world._

Mon Mothma took a deep breath and shifted her feet to face Kess across the room. "Forgive me, but I need to ask you a personal question."

Kess swallowed a dry throat.

Luke popped his head up with a smile and interrupted. "It doesn't matter."

"Oh, I disagree," Sikey scolded.

Leia lifted her face, but her tone was calmer, her thoughts focused elsewhere. "No. He's right. It doesn't." The Minister of State stood up and waggled a calculating finger in the air, off-handedly explaining all this to Kess, "They were about to ask you about the holes in your lineage, _but_ , Rights of Privacy aside, it doesn't matter who your grandparents were or _weren't_." Leia motioned to Luke and his 'Plan Cresh'. "All we need to do is distract this Convention long enough to get the Serra Arm on the same page." She waved an arm at Kess and boasted the obvious to the rest of the group. "If we can make them _think_ she's a Palpatine for a _half_ a beat, it won't matter if it's true!"

"Woah!" Kess put her palms on her own head.

Leia smiled big and waved an arm at Kess. "See? _She_ doesn't even know for sure."

Lando squinted at all this. "The odds, though, are microscopic."

"We don't need to _prove_ it." Leia argued with almost a laugh. "It doesn't need to be _true_." She pointed at the simple facts once more. "All we need is to get the Imperial Convention to delay the confirmation of _their_ heir long enough to gather the Serra Six into one room so we can deliver the terms and give them marching orders."

"Political subterfuge." Dodonna grumbled.

Leia shrugged a fresh smile. "You have your talents; I have mine."

Luke sat up only enough to set his palm on one knee and rest his elbow on the other, arching his eyebrow more than a little. "So let me get this straight: you want to send Kess to the Imperial Capital and pretend to be a Palpatine?"

Leia jabbed her finger at him. "No." She smiled brief and haughty. "I want to get Wubak of GNN in here with some cameras and enough of Kess's missing data to raise the right questions. The whole thing can be done from a hotel room in South Base."

Luke settled to that explanation and glanced at Kess for her reaction to all this. Kess found her strength in his gaze, and began to catch up to the speed of the Council's thinking.

Leia continued, "Meanwhile we have a team sneak into Prince Petra's little party and talk sense into the six leaders of the Serra Arm. By the time the Convention has scrutinized enough data to dismiss or demand Lendra report in person and prove her DNA, the party will be over, the Serra Arm will have a plan of action, and the Alliance will have all troops dropping out of hyperspace above the Imperial Palace."

"No." Dodonna's eyes were hard on nothing over the holo-projector, but they flicked up to meet Leia's. "No, this is why we lost the Republic in the first place."

Mon Mothma gave him the respect of the floor. "Explain."

"Throwing a bone of a bullshit argument into the pit just to distract the forum so we can make a decisive move — that's exactly how Palpatine did it."

Leia insisted the obvious. "But we're not going to kill anybody."

Sikey had to smack at that. "You talk about All Hands dropping out of hyperspace above the Imperial Palace and you don't think anyone's going to get killed?"

"That's not what she meant," Han argued.

Leia insisted harder. "That's not what I meant—

Luke coughed the obvious. "She meant we're not going to assassinate anyone over political contention."

"I know what she meant!" Dodonna barked at them all. He pressed his mouth with low anger. "For years we have risked our lives and the lives of our families against the Palpatine Empire because of its policies and practices. I _refuse_ to overthrow that Empire by using those same practices. _We're better than that._ And if we're not, we shouldn't be in power either."

Ackbar angled his droopy shoulders. "If we _don't_ do it this way, the only other option is to keep trying to kill each other in open battle. 'Might makes right' is more Imperial than political subterfuge. And am growing weary of this method."

Dodonna's beard shifted. His eyes acquiesced to that point.

Mon Mothma clarified coolly. "A strong senate in the Capital— _that's_ our ultimate goal."

Leia noted, "Political subterfuge is _our_ weakness, not theirs. If we can use it to shake the stability of an autocracy before it takes new root, I'm okay with that."

Ackbar swiveled an eyeball over to Kess. "Do you have sufficient questions in your lineage to pull this off?"

Kess straightened in the chair and put her hands in her lap. "Yes _but_."

"But what?" Leia's voice tightened.

"What are the rules about lines of succession? If _they_ have an heir and —just for the sake of argument let's pretend I'm also an heir— which one of us gets it?"

"That's the catch. Palpatine offspring outranks a Vader offspring no matter what the other parameters are."

"Okay, but what if it's two _Palpatine_ offspring?" Kess struggled. "Just humor me for a minute. What's the order of succession?"

Eyes met eyes to calculate that and figure out the Imperial's random list of requirements for leadership. The order of importance stood as: 1)Human. 2)Caucasian. 3)Male. 4)Eldest. 5)Capacity for a continuing bloodline.

"That's it?" Kess smirked at the ridiculousness of it. "No education. . . or political clout . . . or _leadership experience_. . . ?" Of which she had none of any significance. "One's a Jedi and one isn't? Does that matter?"

Luke turned his eyes to her with a hard inhale—and held it. Understanding lit in his face.

"Nope." Han propped his elbow on the terminal behind her with a grin. "All you need is a human white male. Then 'Just Add Money' and you've got the 'rightful' leader to an Empire."

"Or the appearance of money," Madine noted sickly.

"In this case, we also need a Force-user to prove it's a _Palpatine_ heir." Leia gestured across the room, her voice loud enough to quiet all other conversation. "Which is why we're looking at you."

"But I'm _not_." Kess insisted. She eyed Luke across the dark room for his thoughts on the matter. He knew what she was talking about. And Luke eyed her back, biting his lips in hard thought.

Luke shook his head slowly, "He's not trained."

Leia did a double take, and her eyes opened wide. "Your _brother_!"

"No, he's not trained," Kess agreed, "but it's no secret that I have a older brother."

"Ah, yes." Mon Mothma smiled at her feet and silenced everyone with calm words. "I understand your brother has remained neutral to the war," she eyed Kess, "To protect his family?"

Kess nodded, chewing on her lower lip. "Yes and no. His mind is definitely on our side of things but, you're right, he hasn't lifted a finger because he prefers the safety of neutrality." She gestured honorably, "My point is, Nik would trump me in these arbitrary rules of succession, so I'm not going to work in this grand plan of pretending to be the next Palpatine anyway."

The conversation paused.

Leia gave Kess a new grin. "Is he Force-sensitive?"

Kess's eyes flicked to Luke's smug grin and back to Leia's smug grin. She smiled, busted. "Probably." She raised her palms. "And before you ask, yes, I have been trying to get a hold of him per the request of my former Jedi Master-in-need-of-his-Next-Apprentice over there, but I haven't heard back yet."

Leia's eyebrow arched farther. "Is your _nephew_ Force-sensitive?" Not just one heir, but two in the same package?

Kess angled her head, "My nephew is _seven_ —

"Yes, he is." Luke answered for her. His grinning eyes shifted to find hers across the open space. "Ben Lendra is Force-sensitive."

Kess squinted with a, _How do you know?_

Luke winked one eye shut and nodded again. _Yes, he is._

To learn this, the mood of the group lightened significantly.

Leia finished the query aloud. "And does your human, white, male, elder brother have significant memories of one of the survivors of Order 66? Say, Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi, perhaps? Who was incidentally also at Mustafar?"

Kess acquiesced to this line of thinking and nodded. "Nik's old enough. He's your age," she gestured at Luke and the significant timing of that conception. "And my parents went out of their way to hide the truth from us. Just to hide Ben Kenobi though, not to hide _us_ , but we have the right missing data for a ruse."

Mon Mothma lowered her chin. "What do we need to do to recruit your brother's help?"

Kess thought hard and fast. "Safety for the family. Obscurity after it's over. I know my sister-in-law isn't going want anything to do with the military. And we may have to put my father in cryostasis to keep his alcoholic nose out of the whole thing."

Several blanched. "Your _father_?"

"Well," Kess shrugged, "my _adopted_ father apparently but I didn't know that until," she gestured at Luke to calculate how long ago they went to Tatooine to face the man—and so much had happened since then— Kess shrugged again. "Blood relative or not, he's still my dad and we'll still have to deal with him."

Mon Mothma nodded succinct to that and turned her feet away to think. "When does the Convention start?"

"Three days." Ackbar said.

"And when is Petra's little caucus?"

Leia answered, "Four days."

Lando grunted. "Takes nearly that long just to _get_ to Coruscant from here."

"And that's only if we're hauling ass," Han pointed out.

Leia noted, "Petra did that on purpose so the Empire wouldn't suspect a rendezvous."

Reeikan urged darkly, "Do you _really_ think we can get all six systems of the Serra Arm to turn at once?"

"Yes." Leia nodded hard. "If we can get them all in the same room at the same time and assure them they're going to have back up when they need it? _Yes_ , I think we can."

"If we get the Serra Arm, we can get Coruscant."

"We get Coruscant, we've got the Empire."

Conversation paused at that hopeful thought.

The air sizzled with new energy.

"Okay." Mon Mothma lifted her chin and turned back to them all. "Who has a current contact on Coruscant that can get into the Flan Embassy without detection?"

Lando, Solo, and Madine all lifted a hand.

Mon Mothma continued her slow turn to meet the eyes of these people in the CIC Bunker dais. She nodded at each person and issued her gentle orders. "Leia, you're with me to put together a package for the Serra systems. Calrissian. Solo. Skywalker: Get to Prince Petra's party and deliver the terms we're about to hand you. Reeikan. Lendra. Dodonna: Recruit Nik Lendra's help and get his family safely in hiding until this is over. Ackbar. Sikey. Madine: Get our fleet and army ready for a final advance on Coruscant." She spread her hands at them all, "And may the Force be with you."

Everyone stood at once. Bodies zipped back and forth like streaking photons. Kess hesitated reporting to Dodonna and Reeikan right away because she realized that Luke was about to leave for a long trip again. Her hesitation must have been obvious.

Reeikan stepped to her with understanding eyes and his chin in his chest. He gestured respectfully. "Go get them in the air and we'll get started when you come back."

Kess nodded, and nodded again to thank him, and turned to rush to the elevator with the rest of the group.


	12. 11 Goodbyes

Kess plunged onto Pad 14 beside Chewbacca and pealed from his furry flank to march into the managers' office alone.

"Commander Antilles, sir!" (silly salute) "We need to launch 'The Bucket' asap."

Wedge hardly had a chance to lean back in the Big Chair to listen to her before he nodded at her finished statement. He motioned a finger for Ashten to jump and go. Kess and Ashten trotted back across the Pad where Chewie was already standing in the cockpit overhead to initiate power up.

The repair team filed into their synchronous choreography around the _Falcon_ to prep the ship. Repair dragged over hoses to top off fuel, water, and lube. Another pair checked the power charge connection and autofoam levels. Ashten walked the circumference verifying exterior panels were secure while Kess referenced the current repair requests.

Nearby, Threepio and Artoo waddled and rolled with stuffed duffel bags. Lando muttered from a datapad over which Luke and Han were hunched secretively over to listen. Leia marched in to join them, trailed by an entourage of admins. Han poked his head out of the mess to shout at Kess. "Well?"

Kess looked over the repair list and reported with reluctance, "She's broke, Cap."

Leia's scowl poked out from the crowd.

" _How_ broke?" Han returned, insulted.

"The opto-electrics came up red," Kess said as she approached them. She fell naturally in place at Luke's flank and handed over the repair list to Han. "No navigation corrections in hyperspace."

"In and out," he grumbled and grabbed the report from her. "That's all we need."

"You always say that, and it never turns out to be true."

Leia shot a quiet order to Threepio. "Get together a bag for Lieutenant Lendra as well."

Luke, calmly, raised his voice over the hubbub. "Belay that, Threepio."

Lando's head bounced up. Han's brows knitted. Chewie growled a question. Threepio swiveled his head back and forth five times between the powerful pair of twins.

Leia turned both her feet to her brother, angling a haughty head at his defiance. "I can get her brother myself."

Luke angled a confident eyeball back to his sister, cool but firm. "That's not why."

Incidentally, standing between the bodies of the Jedi Master and the Minister of State, Kess drew her shoulders meekly to her ears and ducked her head.

Leia inhaled like a dragon about to breathe fire—

Luke was calm, "It would be foolish to send my only Jedi back up with me on a mission into hostile territory."

Leia's tone was quietly controlled. "She is not your _only_ Jedi back up—

Luke interrupted her, undeterred. "Until a second apprentice _graduates_ from training, she is my _only_ back up."

The stare down between Luke and Leia lasted only a few seconds more but it was enough to silence everyone in the vicinity. Kess was the only one with the Force empathy skill to know it wasn't about to come to blows, but she kept her head ducked just the same.

Finally, Leia turned her chin and muttered a new order at Kess. "Please ensure they have all the tools on board for any repair-in-air that may be necessary."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kess jumped into action to get away from the discussion, thanking the Force she received an order to which she had no problems complying. She had no idea where she'd find a T10-38 at lightspeed, which was about how much time she had. She racked her brain looking around for ideas on what could she get him that would help, but not so much as the weigh down the ship's speed. With a permissive nod from Wedge, she dove into the tool locker to review what Pad 14 had to offer that the _Millennium Falcon_ couldn't live without.

Duct tape.

Twenty minutes later in the _Falcon's_ cockpit, Han wrapped the headset over his ears and leaned over the console to peak up at Pad 14's stone ceiling. "Ashten! Open the door, will ya?" Chewie worked in the co-pilot's seat to wake the ship into a playful purr. Lando sidled in, still talking to someone on a commlink to put things on hold until he returned. Luke stopped at the cockpit door and called back to Artoo if he'd downloaded his correspondence.

It was a zoo. Everyone was on task to get the job done. Kess unloaded an armful of tools into a bin with a clatter. As she brushed her hands, her eyes caught on Luke in the corridor, who was now closing his mouth to stare at her in the same realization.

 _He's leaving again. He wasn't home for a standard day and he's leaving again._

The ship began to whine. They heard the clunk as cargo bay doors secured for take-off. Luke broke the stare first, but Kess was distracted too when Leia passed her with a gentle order. "Let's go say goodbye."

Kess followed only to stop in the corridor. Her hand touched one edge of the cockpit door. Luke dropped a shoulder to lean against the other. They had their own silent conversation while Leia bid farewell to the crew inside.

"Be safe," Leia said.

"We'll be back before you know it," Han assured.

Luke and Kess stared at each other, and both began to grin in sadness. Nothing needed to be said. Their emotions matched. Point for point.

Kess stepped into him, wrapping her arms around his body and hugged the stuffing out of him. Luke held her body just as tightly, pressing his eyes closed at her temple. He swallowed hard. She bit her lips. They smashed themselves together for five full heartbeats before relaxing and releasing. Then, with shaky sighs and knowing nods, they separated again.

 _Time to go to work._

Luke met Leia's gaze, for now his sister in the corridor behind Kess and pretending to wander away. But Leia was peaking a beat longer with a warm grin at the visible affection between the two. Luke brushed off the spike of embarrassment enough to look Kess in the eye, even with his sister watching. He mouthed the words. _I love you._

Her eyes glowed. "Don't get shot." But her eyes said more than those words. And Luke knew now that the reflective emotion behind them was there each and every time she had uttered those words before.

Renewed, Luke smiled and stepped into the cockpit, reluctant to let her fingers slip from his grip, yet somehow ready to take on the entire Empire by himself.

With a hard sigh, Kess left them to their adventure and turned to rush out of the ship. She yelled at Artoo to be safe as she trotted through the bay, securing hatches and bins as she took the long way around to the ramp.

Combat boots skidded hard when she found the Leia blocking her exit.

Leia's weight leaned onto one foot, arms crossed at her chest. Gun-barrel eyes aimed at the repair engineer.

Kess slowed her feet and raised her right hand, already launching into sincere apologies. "I was re-ass'ed to Gold Group and the _Falcon_ a civilian ship so Ashten had to—

"Shut up," Leia snapped with a grin.

Kess bit her upper lip and naturally found herself standing at attention. She wondered suddenly if this was about a sister being protective of a brother. Surely Leia must haven't known about them before now.

"Since my brother listens to you, it would stand to reason that your brother might listen to me."

"Um," Kess rattled her head in the vague direction of a nod. "Probably."

"Good." Leia dropped into a conversational tone, ignoring the fact that they were standing on the ramp of a ship that was whining high for lift off. "Mon Mothma told me once that Obi Wan Kenobi didn't like politicians. Said they don't play fair like Jedi commit themselves to do."

Kess shrugged to agree to that observation from several angles. "Yeah, uh, grandpa was pretty opinionated about that."

"In that light," a clean brow flicked with evil pleasure. "I don't have to play fair." Leia met her eye. "Not yet."

Kess's face paled to see the 'Vader' blood truly flowing through Leia veins for the first time.

Threepio came waddling up the gangway with one more sea bag and plopped it in the corridor. Kess squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced at what was coming next.

Leia's Force Print flowered with equal parts mischief and wrath. "Sit down. Shut up. Strap in, _and_ _get them home_."

The air solidified in Kess's lungs like autofoam hitting hull breach.

With that, Leia marched down the gangway with Threepio waddling at her flank. The woman banged her palm twice on the outer hull to signal all non-essential crew had disembarked. From inside the cockpit, someone flicked the switch to bring up the ramp.

Kess paused with indecision. The steel toes of her boots hovered over the joint as the long tongue slowly enclosed her. If she darted out now, she could fall on her back and roll off to Pad 14 duracrete deck before the _Falcon_ munched her. But, for the split second she had to choose, the debate played out.

The Minister of State was second in command of all enforcement agencies in the Alliance, including the military. By UCMJ code pertaining to the Chain of Command, _Lieutenant_ Lendra had to follow her orders regardless of any ranks between them who might argue otherwise. Besides, Kess knew this ship better than any non-crewmember, so she was the best repair choice to make sure The Bucket brought The Boys home safely.

Yet the Jedi Master's argument was equally valid. Not that Kess felt she could fill his shoes if something happened to Luke, she would at least try to complete his Jedi Guild mission as best she could. But it was his Direct Order to his sister only minutes ago that gave Kess further pause. Luke didn't want her to go, whether it was for the reasons he stated in public or some personal fear of her safety, it didn't matter. _Luke didn't want her to go_.

And Kess didn't want to defy him just as powerfully as she didn't want to defy his sister.

As the engines whined awake and the gangway slowly closed her in, Kess took a moment to close her eyes and listen to the Force.

 _Go_.

Her eyes opened to the shutting gangway. She turned steel toes away from the exit ramp and stepped silently to the game table to strap herself in.

That the Minister of State ordered her wasn't going to be much of a defense against the Jedi Master or the Smuggler Captain. Kess winced at the explosive reaction she was going to get when Solo found a stowaway on his ship. Luke's would certainly be disappointed that Leia blatantly outranked him, and more disappointed that Kess chose Leia's order over Luke's.

But that wasn't her biggest worry.

As she listened to the mooring lines cut off, Kess pulled Gold Eight's half finished custom oil valve flange from her breast pocket. She fidgeted with in her fingers at the table with a sick grin, then dropped her whole head down on her forearms with a grimacing whine. "I am so fired!"


	13. 12 Stowaway

Lando's voice emerged from the cockpit first. "Luke, you okay? What's the matter?"

Luke's voice was a disappointed sigh. "Oh. You'll figure it out in a second."

Han came around the corner headed fast for the galley. "I'm cooking right now, Chewie!" His boots skidded on the grated floor when he found her. Lando stepped in behind him and spread a palm of surprise. Luke's hands were stuffed in his pockets but his eyes remained on the deck.

Han's face contorted, "What the—

Kess flashed her palms out with a shout. "She ordered me to!"

Han shouted back with a wild shrug, "So?"

"So she's the Minister of State!" Kess squeaked. "When she says jump, I say 'how high'?"

"How _Imperial_ of you!" Han rolled his head on his neck. "We don't even have the bunks! Did Madam _Ministress_ indicate who was going to sleep on the deck?"

Kess settled into subdued confession. "I didn't have the chance to argue the impracticality of it, Captain."

Han's shoulders slumped and Lando hitched a breath, both already working this change an how it was going to fit in with the mission plan.

Luke peeked a cold eye, but Kess couldn't meet his gaze yet.

Chewie barked from the cockpit.

"Alright! Alright." Han resumed his path to the galley and gave Kess a rolling-eyed acceptance.

"I brought duct tape," she offered as a peace offering.

Han flashed a smile but barked just the same. "Then what do I need you for?"

Lando grabbed his bag and disappeared down the port corridor. Han dove into the galley to whip up a meal for Chewie. Luke now rested his back against a curved wall and closed his eyes to figure out how to deal with this. Kess looked bashfully over at Artoo.

Artoo laughed a twittering cuss and shook his dome away.

Kess shucked a reluctant smile at the droid. "Shut up."

Luke found her eyes only enough to communicate their need to talk and rolled his back dejectedly off the wall. Kess watched him turn away and braced herself for this argument as she unstrapped so she could follow.

When she came around to find him hiding in the circuitry bay, Luke was leaning one palm on a bulkhead unit in front of him and scratching the back of his head with the other, looking defeated. Kess felt a sting in her soul on a personal level while she tried to scrounge the courage to debate this on a professional level. She failed.

She tucked herself deeper into the bay and lowered her voice in a plea. "Luke, she _ordered_ me to."

Harshness oozed from his voice, "I guess it's good to know where you're loyalties lie."

Kess slammed her senses shut. "I asked you!" She tried not to shout. "Not two hours ago, _I asked you_ about this and you wanted to stay out of it!"

He closed his mouth and looked at the floor. His boot fidgeted with a broken panel. His shoulders were stiff.

"If you don't vote, you don't get to bitch about the results."

"I know," he said, but his eyes were still cold.

"Then why are you giving me the—

"The _what_?" He challenged, his brows lifting. "I didn't say anything."

"You're feelings are stabbing out at me like a knife."

He shrugged hard and whined harder, "Just because you can sense my disappointment doesn't mean I'm filing a complaint. Don't make this personal."

Kess settled but struggled.

"And just because she's the Minister of State doesn't mean you should follow her orders without question."

"I _didn't_ follow them without question. She made a good point."

"Which was?"

"If this boat hiccups on the trip, you're going to need me. I dare you tell me the last time this boat didn't hiccup on a trip."

Luke flattened his mouth.

"Besides, Nik knows who she is. So does Dad. She's probably got a better chance to round up the family than I do."

Luke exhaled and closed his eyes. She sensed him trying to calm and remained quiet to let him. Then she closed her eyes too and joined in the effort for herself.

When he opened his eyes a moment later, Kess began again with a calmer mutter. "Look, you already won this argument. Commander Tolgray told me that if anyone overrides him again, he's going to have me transferred to Hoth."

Luke shook his head, "Tolgray doesn't have the—

"It doesn't matter. He has every right to be upset. I don't want to be a fair-weather engineer to him or anyone. Besides, I can't say 'no' to you." She met his eyes. "Just like I couldn't say 'no' to her. I respect you both way too much."

Luke's mouth twitched with appreciation.

"And _so what_ if that part is personal and not professional. It is what it is." Kess's voice tightened in her throat. "I got myself fired the moment I decided to follow her order and not yours." She shrugged her hands in defeat. "So the decision is made."

Luke tried not to sound pleased. "Guess it's a good thing you've got another job lined up."

"Oh yeah?" She whined. "You got a contingency plan how I'm going to pay my commlink bill in this Jedi job of yours?" She dropped her back against the bulkhead and slumped too.

He chuckled low. "You worry too much."

" _I_ worry too much? Since when did we trade places in the worry department?"

Luke hooked a hand on a rafter over his head and looked at it, looking at nothing.

Kess softened her voice, "Admit it, Luke, there's more than this Jedi back-up excuse that you don't want me here."

"That's not true," he lied, but she couldn't tell if he _knew_ that he lied. His eyes dropped to find her, and he closed his mouth. He rubbed his lips with difficulty. Then his eye lids wrinkled.

Maybe he did realize he just lied.

Kess was afraid to ask. "Will you feel differently after Nik finishes his training?"

"No." Luke admitted. "In fact, I want to get your brother trained as soon as possible so I can take him on missions with me _instead_ of you." He scrunched his mouth flat with reluctance to admit that aloud.

She closed her eyes at the blow.

He uttered the truth of it. "Kess, you _died_." He said, swallowing hard. "For three days, I thought you were dead." His expressions worked to control the emotion from erupting. It felt like a fat, slow bubble of lava insistent to break free. "I don't want you on Coruscant. I don't want you anywhere near them. After what Cheenan did to you—" The lava bubble popped. But he forced it to calm back down. His whisper was rough. "If I had to face that choice again, to risk you for the sake of a mission . . . I don't trust myself with the decision. Not yet. "

She tried to make light of it. "Then you shouldn't've trained me to be a Jedi in the first place."

Luke hitched a breath. He groaned at the ceiling. "You're telling me."

Kess raised her shields so he wouldn't detect how much that stung.

"Attachment is forbidden." He whispered it tightly. "I guess still have some of my own training to do." He let go of the rafter and turned away in brokenhearted defeat.

Kess swallowed a lump in her throat. At least his reluctance was about putting her in danger and not her performance. "I couldn't do it either."

Luke glanced back.

"If the roles were reversed, I couldn't sacrifice you for the sake of a mission either. I've thought about it. And it doesn't even have to do with us." She looked at her feet as she murmured all this. "Or maybe it does. Even if I could imagine it be possible to win this war without you, I can't see how it could still be considered a victory."

He dropped his shoulder to the bulkhead beside her.

"You think I didn't panic when you left last week?" She looked up at his downturned face. "You think I didn't toss and turn at night worrying about you?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "It was just a diplomatic thing."

"Yeah, but I didn't know that. You couldn't tell me that. And for good reason. But that doesn't dampen how much I worried about you while you were gone." She gestured, "Even Wedge could see it. I ran into him at the lunch counter and he looked at me like had a blaster shot in my stomach. 'Holy hell, are you okay?'"

Luke grinned.

"And I didn't think I was being obvious." She squinted. "Are you sure he's not Force Sensitive?"

"Who? Wedge?" Luke nodded. "I'm sure. He's just very good at what he does." His eyes lifted with a hidden shine. "Did you get a chance to talk to him?"

"No." Her smile grew. "Are you going to tell me what he wanted?"

Luke angled his chin the other way, considering his place in the matter before he gave in and told her. "Neilson quit."

 _"What?"_

"Yeah, his father died and he had to go home to take his place as the head of the clan. Some kind of Plovovian tradition I guess."

"Oh, man. Poor Neilson. He never said anything."

"Neilson's a private man. You know that. I'm sure he didn't want his last week in the rebellion to be distracted with receiving condolences."

"So Rogue Group's out a repair manager." Her eyes hung on the air. "Right before an advance on Coruscant."

Luke grinned quietly. "Now you know why I needed to stay out of it."

She rolled her head away and groaned at the ceiling. "And they're going to need to be ready _before_ we get back from this." Kess buried her face in her hands, remembering Madine's advice, yet still strongly regretting her decision to stay on this ship. "I should be there. In the grease. Helping Ashten get those birds ready."

He shrugged his head aside. "Well, you're here now."

She looked up for some shred of reassurance beneath all this, but Luke only shrugged a brow at the whole thing. She wanted to hold him, but she wasn't sure if she was allowed to. Was this considered being On Duty? He was right there, his hand hanging by his side just inches from her own. But it felt like there was a barrier between them. Emotionally attached at the hip but physically light-years apart.

Then she squeezed her eyes shut to cuss at the idea that she felt she needed open permission just to touch his hand.

"And maybe we've got more training to do than that," he murmured.

She opened her eyes to find him looking right through her. The oxygen left her lungs. _Of course_ Luke sensed her struggle. She felt raw, like her soul was cut wide open, a victim to his whim. Just a twitch, just a word, and Kess would collapse in pain or blossom in heaven. And she was too terrified to make the move herself in order to learn which one it would be.

She closed her eyes and braced for impact.

"Kess, I didn't cast a vote because I shouldn't have this much power." His voice was almost a whisper. "Not over you."

His fingers tenderly touched hers, but with significance in statement. Her eyes turned up. Her lungs began to breathe again.

"Superior skill and knowledge, sure, but not authority." He shook his head. "All that time, I pretended it wasn't there and you pretended not to see it. I think we're both still suffering some bad habits we developed during your training."

At the tactical invitation, Kess fell into his body and relaxed in the reassurance of his squeezing arms.

He whispered into her hair. "I have to be allowed to be mad at you without it being the end of the world. And you have to feel righteous enough to put me in my place without feeling like your breaking ranks."

Kess sighed into his neck with overwhelming relief.

"This is going to be a difficult mission." Luke murmured the truth of it. "Not because there's going to be lightsaber action, because there won't." He pulled her back only enough to look her in the eyes. "This one is going to get complicated. There are so many moving parts. So many booby traps we could get caught up in. And we're not always going to get the chance to make sure we're on the same page."

"You know I'm on your side." She pleaded, "No matter what."

"But you _shouldn't_ be. That's my point." He eyed her hard, as if he knew something she didn't. "If leadership can't handle the hard knocks they shouldn't be leaders at all. Don't worship me the way Palpatine expected everyone to worship him. Don't obey me like I'm Vader."

His choice of words struck a chord in her throat.

He wrapped his arms around her body, and continued with stronger conviction. "I wouldn't have fallen in love with you if you weren't defying me half the time."

She absorbed his argument but absorbed the words within it to a far deeper extent. She wrapped her arms around his sides and pressed her face to his collarbone, grinning to be allowed to say this out loud. "I love you, too."

To that, he kissed her temple.

Han's boot steps clanked closer as he returned to the cockpit. He called out over the whole ship. "We're shutting the lights down!"

Luke lifted his face and called a strong return. "Alright."

Echoing from a distant cubby, Lando's voice called goodnight.

Kess looked up and Luke looked down, stretching an odd grin. His eyes looked at all parts of her face. The overhead lights clunked off, leaving the compartment lit only with blinking readouts and emergency running ribbons.

In the darkness, the air heated a degree.

Not enough bunks? The logical solution was for Luke and Kess to cuddle close enough together to use a single bunk. Or Han would have to lend them his slightly larger one. Either way, _damn the bad luck._

"Well, there is _one_ benefit to going on missions together," she hinted, "isn't there?"

Luke pretended to shrug at that idea as he stood on his feet. His fingers snatched the zipper tab of her flight suit and pulled her off the wall with it, faintly reflecting a move of some dark lord bringing the neck of an enemy nose to nose for a threat.

All too trusting, all too close, she balanced on her boots in front of him, expecting a comment or a quip. But Luke didn't speak.

He brought her face to face by that tiny grip, eyes locked in daring, and slowly dragged the zipper tab _down_.


	14. 13 Sex in the Circuitry Bay

A smile exploded across her face. She flushed at the thought. _On the Falcon?_ She glanced to the open hatchway, where the dim lights of the galley bled in, but Han and Chewie were in the cockpit and Lando had already turned in.

Kess was as surprised by the idea as she was about his boldness to consider it. She stared up at him in the darkness, captivated, and Luke kept her eyes. His fingers slowly pulled down her zipper as far as his arm could reach. It was as if he was daring her to stop him but Kess was a dear in headlights. She couldn't stop him if she wanted to.

His mouth clumsily searched for hers, and the kiss knocked her head to the bulkhead. Luke only inched closer, kissing leisurely while hidden fingers snuck in at her belly, and tucked up the edge of her tank top so his fingers could get to the skin.

"Well, look at that," he cooed, almost inaudibly, "You're not wearing a uniform under your flight suit again. Busted."

Her chest already shuddered at this hot touch at her stomach. She tried to keep her wits. "Never bothered you before."

Now both palms were sliding in. His tone grinned. "I didn't say it bothered me."

She couldn't help but chuckle bashfully about all this. For now his hands were exploring hips, sides, and a bellybutton. And he clearly had no intention to pause this and move it to a bunk. She glanced again at the open hatchway. "In the circuitry bay?"

Luke scoffed. "If you think this compartment hasn't seen action before, you're in for a surprise."

Insult spiked. She reared back.

He blinked and laughed. "I'm not talking about _me_."

"Oh." Her shoulders relaxed.

With a chuckle, Luke closed the distance again and returned his palms to her skin. "What, you think I smuggle redheads on these trips or something?" He was already brushing his lips along her neck to as if browsing what to taste first.

Of course she didn't, but now she was too distracted to remember what the question was. His body rested lightly against hers, from knees to chests, and his palms tangled so deeply into her flight suit they now brushed up and down her spine. She melted like butter.

He kissed her neck. He kissed her jaw line. He kissed her mouth. And she wrapped her arms around those big shoulders and held him there so he wouldn't stop. She loved how his tongue was always so soft on hers, always slow, almost timid, like he was sneaking a taste of something he wasn't supposed to have, like he was still afraid he was going get in trouble for it. Her fingers played in the hair on the back of his neck. Her breasts reached for the palms that now drifted around to find them. All the while kissing his mouth, over and over and over again.

Did the compartment grow hotter, or was that the Force? She wasn't sure. But he blinked back at it too, and smiled in the darkness.

He pulled her off the bulkhead by the hips. "I'm beginning to understand why this wasn't legal for old crew."

She followed his lead but laughed at him. "You didn't figure that out a month ago?"

He backed up several paces, pulling her with him. "Oh, I figured it out a lot sooner than that." He stopped their feet in the middle of the bay where neither of them had a bulkhead to rest against. He brought his hands away only to focus on the job of taking her clothes off. "I just expected the intensity would fade after the initial . . . y'know."

Kess unhooked the buttons of his shirt. "Let's hope that never happens."

He angled his head. His words were gentle in their seriousness. "I just don't want it to get dangerous." But even as he said this, his hands pushed back the flight suit from her shoulders and pulled it down so she could unthread her arms from the sleeves.

"I know." She consoled, and pulled away the shirt from his chest. "But I think a person is at more risk of turning to the dark side by _not_ following through with this instinct."

"Uh, _no_. This _is_ on the dark side," he instructed and chuckled again, now pulling her tank top over her head and tossing it aside. "We're just going to need to, um," he smiled big, " _experiment_ on how to keep it from affecting other decisions."

"Experiment?" She grinned at his choice of words. "I see." She pulled his belt free from his stomach. "So, for the sake of, um, 'research'." Her mouth grinned. "I gotta know something."

"Hm."

She could barely see him in here, but there was enough yellow glow coming around the corner to make out his face, and enough readouts in here to know where the walls were. The darkness demanded fingers fumble to find buttons and zippers and sleeves.

"How far back did you actually think about having sex with me?"

"Hmmm." He was already shirtless but she had an additional layer. He closed the distance and brought both hands behind her back so he could try to figure out the bra strap by feel alone. Clearly, he was still learning out to do this. She let him work it out on his own. "Tough to say."

"Was it while we were still on Frakkan?"

"Oh, absolutely." His voice tucked deep, almost with a chuckle at the understatement. "I was quite guilty of an active imagination long before we left Frakkan."

Kess warmed. "Then when?"

"I'm not sure." He stretched his mouth to think on that. The bra strap released and his fingers traced her shoulder blades to drag it gently off of her body. "It wasn't the first thing I wanted. Odd as that may sound for a human male."

Now she was curious. "What was the first thing you wanted?"

He looked down to watch his hands close over her breasts, even if he couldn't see them very well. "I guess I wanted to make you smile." He said distantly. His thumbs brushed over her nipples. "There was a moment there, in the beginning, when you stopped shivering in your boots around me and just smiled." His fingers traced up and down her sides, lingering, thoughtful. "But it wasn't just on your mouth, it was in your eyes too. Your whole face. Even on the Force." He warmed at the memory, distracted a little, but his hands never stopped exploring her skin with a feather touch. "And you weren't smiling at the guy who blew up the Death Star, or smiling at the pilot, or the Jedi." His palms slid around her sides again. "And since you didn't know about Vader yet there wasn't any of that mucking things up." His naked arms pulled her body back to him, a nice, full, snug hug. "For a second, you just saw _me_ , and you're whole existence smiled." Holding her warm and close, his shoulders shrugged shyly. "And my whole existence smiled back."

As they were smiling at each other right now.

He shrugged his shoulders again. "None of this was conscious thought, mind you. I didn't realize I'd set myself up in a trap until a long time later. But yeah. Whether you realized it or not, you were smiling at just _me_. So the first thing I wanted was for that to keep happening."

She bit her lower lip with big smile of love. "Well you covered it up very well."

He shucked a dark laugh and aimed to take her mouth again. "That's only because you didn't know how to sense it yet." He kissed her, slow and sweet. His palms came to her face to keep kissing her, but his feet fumbled against each other. He pulled away. "Dammit."

"What are you trying to do?" She giggled.

He stepped back from her. "Take my boots off." He found a fairly flat spot on the wall (a rare thing in this bay) and lowered to sit down on the floor with his back against it.

Kess joined him, sitting on the cold steel floor in front of him and pulled free her own boot laces. "You really do want to do this in the circuitry bay?"

"Sure, why not?" His voice was quiet, but his smile was audibly from ear to ear. "Less noise will travel from here than any of the bunks."

She kicked off her boots and her socks. Then she pushed the flight suit from her hips and her ass hit that steel deck. She leapt to her knees. "Yow! That's cold." She brought over some of the discarded clothing to use it as a barrier.

Luke quickly pushed to his bare feet and held his open pants from falling down his hips. "But we should probably close the ha—

Chewie hooted.

Kess flashed around and covered her breasts. The Wookiee's head poked in sideways through the very hatch Luke was about to shut. He took one look at Luke, one at Kess, then hooted again and disappeared. Furry fingers pressed the button and the hatch closed him out.

They both exploded with blushing snickers.

Luke turned around to return where he was before. "Told ya." He shoved his pants off and stepped out of them, but not without folding them as he moved.

"I'm all for this," Kess assured, "but this deck is cold."

She could barely see him drape his folded slacks down on the deck and step over to sit on them with his own naked butt. He propped himself against that vaguely flat part of the bulkhead again with an aroused suggestion, "so don't sit on the deck."

Grinning at his intent, she maneuvered onto her knees and found the parts of his slacks that would keep her kneecaps from scraping into the steel beneath him. Straddling his legs loosely, she let her hands find his chest. She wanted to know more. Even with all this sexual distraction, and growing hot because of it, she wanted to hear more about what was on his mind back on that Frakkan beach. "When was the first time you wanted to kiss me?"

His chin lifted and his palms pulled her ass closer. "Oh, I don't know. Probably about the time you and I were stuffed right under this deck, when you were trying to break our water supply." He brought her over until she settled against him. By the feel of things, 'he' was as ready for this to get started as 'she' was.

Her eyes closed at the warm feeling, and goose bumps flowed over her skin, but she whispered a smile at the memory. "That was before we even _got_ to Frakkan."

His mouth chinned over with a whispered order. " _Shut. . . up_."

She barely had time to giggle at it before he was kissing her again. She combed her fingers into his hair and rubbed against him. This time, it was him to reach between them and put himself in place. She fell slowly onto it and crumbled against his body.

His fingers gripped her ass and moved her, slow and intense, absolute power. His throat gurgled and his mouth hovered at her lips. She rocked against his lap and clawed the round of his shoulders with a grunt of surprise. "I can feel you in the back of my _throat_."

His fingers gripped her harder but worked not to move her any faster. Speed wasn't necessary. There was work here to not let it end to soon. This angle was significantly different than any of the others. Luke wasn't entirely sure if he _wasn't_ reaching her throat.

In this intense concentration, his right hand began to dig bruises into her flesh.

"Woah, gentle." She smiled against his mouth.

"Sorry." His fingers relaxed a little, but he was having trouble not shoving this forcefully home.

She held his face and kissed his mouth, forgetting to kiss his mouth that it was almost just tongue resting on tongue. All the kiss movement came from the deliberate rocking. She stuffed him so deep it was as if she was trying determine if she could make it actually _reach_ the back of her throat. But the hard steel under her knees, and his fingers digging into her hips, forced this all to remain super slow.

His whole body began to tremble and she clawed the skin under his scalp, holding his head to keep his mouth from drifting away in the tight panting of it. His lips tried to reach for hers again but, once their tongues connected, her throat cried and his fingers bruised.

As if by electric shock, they shuddered against each other nearly as long than the whole thing lasted.

Breaths released.

Panting calmed.

She swallowed and breathed into his cheekbone with a tone of surprise. "And here all this time I didn't think you'd know what you were doing."

He released a little moan against her chin and smiled anew. "You thought I didn't know how?"

She settled onto him like wet sand and explained it respectfully as she could. "No, I mean, most guys have trouble waiting their turn."

His palms were soft again and his arms enclosed her entirely to keep her right where she was. "And I was thinking you don't last long enough." His tone smiled. "I'm not holding back, really, you're just dragging me with you."

She wondered if it was a Force thing. The sex between them wasn't just a tactical experience. Empathy was at work too. But was that because they were in love with each other or because of actual Force senses?

Right now she didn't care enough to mentally debate the idea. She cuddled into his chest, snuggled against his neck and sighed beautifully. "Damn that was quick."

His voice darkened with a dirty laugh. "Welcome to the _Falcon's_ circuitry bay."

And they giggled into each other's faces.


	15. 14 Secretary Woody of Helmba

"Mister Secretary?" Clarissa poked around the mahogany corner and black hair flowed over her shoulder like a wave of silk. Brown eyes searched the darkness, but she couldn't see a body behind the desk. Her arms were full of datafolios and binders of paper. She tiptoed into the office as if afraid to wake a dragon, except that it was her job to 'wake the dragon'. "Um. Mister Secretary?"

Perhaps he wasn't in there. Clarissa switched on the light.

"Bah!" He yelped.

Clarissa reared back.

Arms and legs erupted from lounging behind the desk. Secretary Woody had been drooped back in the reclining chair so far that he was nearly parallel. But now, in his alarm, his propped shoe kicked over a container of spiked java across the console. Yellow hair flopped on his head like a mop as he reached to stop the mess.

Clarissa too jump into action and used nearby papers to mop up the spill before it soaked into the electronics.

With gritting teeth and hair in his eyes, hovering his chin just above the console in his reaching, the secretary growled, "What. Do. You. _Want?"_

Clarissa struggled to mop the spill and fumble her apologies simultaneously. "I'm sorry, to um, bother you Mr. Secretary, but um, you have an urgent invitation from Prince Petra of the Flan system."

"Petra? That insignificant little shit?" The man leaned back in his chair and propped his foot up on the desk to resume his nap. "I've got more important things to do."

"Like what?" Petra challenged.

Woody lifted his face to look for the source of the voice. He dropped his foot to the floor and pressed his palms to rise from his chair. The man had to lift his full height to see over the console enough and find Petra already standing in front of his desk.

Petra looked human enough, but he stood the height of an Ugnaught. The prince's hands were stuffed into the pockets of his fine blue suit and his head cocked aside at Woody's display. "I suppose you could just wait for the Empire to implode, but I've got a better idea."

Woody slammed his palm on the wet desktop and yelled. "I hate it when you sneak up on me like that!" Then he shook the wet paper goop from his hand.

Petra angled a shrug. "Oh now, don't blame me for your obtuse attentions, Mister Secretary. I walked in here as plain as the lawsuits in your dossier." He turned with grandeur to Clarissa, "Complete with an announcement by your beautiful assistant. You should learn take her more seriously."

Clarissa pressed an uncomfortable grin.

Petra stepped to her and put his palms together. "My darling, would you be so kind as to grant me a moment of privacy with your fine employer?"

"Of course, your highness." Clarissa nodded and closed the door as she left.

Woody barked harsher. "You can't just dismiss my own assistant like that!"

"I just did." Petra said as he strolled around the desk to the other man, standing with locked knees out of reach of the chair. "Now. Are you sober enough to heed the words I'm about to tell you?"

Woody sighed hard with a wrinkled mouth. He glanced at the drink that was now gone and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. "Probably not."

"Well. Then consider this question instead." Petra reached to the desk and plucked the now-empty canister so he could sniff the contents. "Would you still be wallowing in rot-gut red dwarf if you had a system to represent?"

Secretary Woody rattle his head, but his eyes sharpened. "I'm already going to the kriffing convention. They didn't give me a choice."

"Of course they didn't give us a choice." Petra grinned. "They want our votes to legitimize this Imperial heir of theirs."

Woody shrugged his hands from his knees. "So what are you here for?"

Petra pulled out a drawer and rolled his shoulders back to stomp on it. The short prince used the drawer and Woody's knee to climb on top of the desk. "I'm interested in the level of _your_ interest about the depth of beauty regarding that singular word." He strolled over to a dry edge of the console, uncaring of what he stepped on.

Woody swiveled his chair around to face the man now sitting down on the edge of the desk and draping his fancy shoes over the side. "Which word?"

Petra angled his head and met Woody's eyes. " _Votes_."

Woody angled his head too, his tongue fidgeting with something in his lower cheek. "The convention's a sham," he shrugged. "Our votes don't matter."

"But what if they did?"

Woody's chest raised with an inhale—

Petra gestured curiously. "Hypothetically speaking of course. What if our votes _did_ matter?"

Woody grumbled at the other man like he was an idiot. "Even if we could block this heir from taking the throne, they'd just sick us with a Grand Moff. "

"I'm not talking about the heir, you imbecile, I'm talking about _votes_."

"For what?"

"Anything. _Everything_." Petra shrugged hard to match the man. "What if you could call a vote to stop the silver mining in Helmba's southern pole? What if you could call a vote to remove all Trade Federation influence on your local economy?"

"The Empire would never stand for a public vote like that."

"Awe, lad, you are drunk, aren't you?"

"What are you talking about?" Woody groaned. "This is just same shit different day. We haven't had that kind of freedom since—

His words stopped short. His eyes stared at the desktop. His jaw went slack.

Petra began to grin. "And maybe you aren't too drunk, after all."

Woody's eyes flicked back up. "If we tried to make a move like that, if we even peeked in their direction, Coruscant would reach out and blow us out of the sky."

Petra raised his palms in peace. "No peeking. No moves. Just talk." He lowered his hands to his lap. "Are you up for a listen?"

Hard eyes studied Petra like a wild dog afraid to take a treat from an offering hand. "Depends on who's doing the talking."

Petra considered this coolly. "Do you trust me?"

"No." The answer was as quick and succinct as the question.

But Petra smiled at it. At least they were being honest with each other. "And what if I told you I have friends in faraway places. Friends of whom I have invited to attend my mini-fête paralleling the convention?"

Abashed, Woody blurted, "Like who? The only people you consort with are hookers and spice dealers."

Petra dashed his head the other way. "Yes, well, those will be in attendance as well."

Woody leaned back his chair with his own shrugging hand, "Well, damn, boy, you should've said so from the start."

They shared a dirty laugh.

But Woody eyed him harder, "Am I reading you right? You really think you're gonna get an Alliance high-roller onto Coruscant during the convention just to talk terms? With _us_?"

"I didn't say that." Petra insisted, yet eyed him harder. "But what if I did?"

Woody considered this for a long moment, during which he plucked over the empty canister, looked inside, and tossed away the remaining drink over his shoulder to splatter against the wall. Petra watched him squint to consider this more as the man pulled out a coffee cup from the drawer and hand it to Petra. Then Woody plucked out a half empty bottle and swiveled to face Petra again as he unscrewed the cap.

"How high of a roller?" Woody asked as he poured a shot in each.

"Unknown as of yet, but I have assurances—

Woody slapped the bottle on the table so hard it sloshed out of the neck. "I need more than assurances, Petra. You're talking about treason."

"I am aware of that." Petra spoke quiet and clear. "But consider me to be suffering from an addiction from which I cannot recover. Once upon a time, you and I both bathed in a certain luxury from which we have curdled under the Imperial yoke to be forced to live without. And like any addict, I am willing to risk it all in order to regain that essential element of our existence."

"What luxury?"

"The right to _vote_."

Woody looked at him hard.

Petra whispered intensely. "I'm not coming to you with bullshit."

The Secretary of Helmba absorbed as soberly as his drunken state could. "You say there'll be hookers and spice there?"

"Of course there will. It's me." Petra jumped off the desk and straightened his suit.

"That'll give me a decent cover." Woody nodded hard, "Now get out of here before anyone sees you."

"Farewell my drunken chum!" He bowed deeply as he backed out of the office. "I will see you at the party."


	16. 15 Memories of Grandpa

Kess was honored to be asked to stand watch in the cockpit for a few hours. There wasn't really anything to do in hyperspace, and she'd call for help the moment anything happened, but she swelled at the gesture of acceptance into this historic clan when Han shrugged that 'the little stowaway' should take the chair for a little while.

She propped both elbows on the console and rested her chin in her fists to gaze out at the wavering stripes of stars in thought, first grinning over her recent memories of Luke in dark corners, but soon drifted to memories of another Jedi she loved just as much, but from further back. . . .

"Grandpa!" A young Kesselia skipped down the whitewashed steps with loose hair dancing in the air behind her. The house was dark; they might be in bed already. A soft glow shined sideways from the parlor. Kesselia crossed the courtyard and curled around the corner. "Grandpa?"

Obi Wan Kenobi lounged with poise in a wingback chair. Wrinkled hands closed a hardbound book and set it aside. "Hallo, sweet. What brings my way this evening?"

Kesselia flashed a big smile and skipped across the living room to the old man. She sat her hip on his armrest and leaned over him to hug his shoulders.

Grandpa groaned deliberately, making a verbal note that she wasn't as small as she used to be. "Isn't your father concerned with you out this late?"

"He's at the pub still." She launched off the armrest, fetched a footstool, and squatted onto it next to his chair to announce her exciting news. "I got a job! At Inky's Droid Repair!"

"A _job_?" Grandpa aimed his blond-white beard to her. "Before you're finished with school? Is that wise?"

"It's the only way I'm going to afford a place of my own as soon as I graduate." She watched him pull over his teacup as she chatted. "It's either that or join the Academy."

Grandpa dismissed that idea with a low voice. "No, sweet, you stay away from the Academy."

The Imperial Academy was actually her best option. Not only would she be able to get away from her father as soon as she graduated, she'd escape Tatooine entirely. But the Academy idea didn't sit well with anyone in the family, especially Grandpa. "I don't get why you're so anti-military."

"You are misinformed," he assured politely. "I am not 'anti-military'. I am simply anti- _offensive_."

"Yeah, but—You _were_ in the military. Right?" She poked, trying again to get him to admit it. She whined out all her evidence. "You taught me how to fight back those bullies in school; how to spot a bad guy in a crowd."

"I taught you _self-defense_ ," he corrected. "The Imperial Navy is nothing more than a band of bullies with tyrant-sanctioned firepower." He sipped the last of his tea. "And no," he added pointedly, "I was never a soldier in the Imperial military."

"Still." She squinted accusations at him. "I reckon you were in more than one barroom brawl in your day."

To accuse him of such uncivilized shenanigans, he opened his mouth to vehemently defend—

And stopped himself. His mouth slapped shut. After a moment of intense reflection, devious eyes slid her way. His mouth curled into a cute grin even if his voice assured with professionalism. "I was on official business."

Kess cackled love at the old man. "You are such a tease!"

"Tea?" He blinked over. "Did you say 'tea'?" He nudged his empty cup into her hand so she could refill it. "Thank you, dear. You are too kind."

Kess only chuckled, shaking her head at him like her grandmother did, giving into his charms without a fight like her grandmother did. She took his cup and saucer and turned to the kitchen. Soon enough, Kess pressed Grandpa to vocalize his vote on the matter of the job, but all he would say was, "You are wise enough to make your life decisions on your own."

Kess grinned with reverie. Now looking back at it, her memories of a frail old man weren't as clear as she first assessed. She remembered how he would lean a palm on a countertop to aid his aching knees as he moved along the length of the kitchen, or pull himself up a set of stairs by hand railings whenever he could.

But she also remembered him swirling Grandma around the courtyard in dance, light as a feather. Grandma's laughter tickled the walls of the shady courtyard every time Grandpa flamboyantly dipped her. He would pull her back up and they would smile at each other like fresh-faced teens, turning anew, and the couple centrifuged in skillful steps to the melody of some Republic-Era tune.

And now that she knew who he really was. . . .

Celibate?

 _. . . Really?_

Kess couldn't remember any incident when Grandpa and Grandma showed physical affection more than a light-footed dance or a kiss on the temple. (But she never saw Han and Leia do anything different, and Leia was pregnant.) Without having any tangible memory to support the conclusion, Kess somehow knew they loved each other. There was no question in her mind.

And yet, he _still_ could have been celibate.

Grandpa 'glowed-up' to Luke and confessed that Kesselia _Kenobi_ Lendra was not his blood-relation after all. She and Luke concluded that posing as the grandfather to the little Lendra family was just a part of his cover story while he was in hiding. What better way to prove you weren't the Jedi they were looking for than to have a wife and multiple layers of offspring?

Luke once reflected to her, "He said, 'the Jedi were celibate up until my father, then everything changed.' That's what he said. Word for word."

"Yeah, but . . . what about my grand _mother_?"

"I asked him about that too," Luke smiled again at Old Ben's answer. "All he said was: 'It's kind of a long story.'"

Luke and Kess shared a laugh about it. All they managed to conclude was that Master Kenobi's years in hiding on Tatooine was a story they would never get to hear.

Kess let her mind wander to snapshots that painted Grandpa as a bumbling old man, but now that she reviewed these moments as an adult, complete with her Jedi education, Kess was starting to see it all a little differently.

It was some holiday dinner back when Grandpa still had more blond than white in his hair, when his eyes were more blue and less gray. Grandma and Mom went out to the market, leaving the rest of them to watch pod races on the vid. Soon enough, Dad was drunk enough to knock over a tray of finger food. Nik rushed to clean up the mess from Grandma's carpet and Kess scrambled to make sure her father didn't knock the table over too.

Grandpa's only reaction was to glare at the man from his wingback chair.

Kess remembered trying to take her father's elbow and usher him to the backroom to lie down, but Dad whipped her away from him, back-handing her in the process. She reeled at the blow, raising her arms in defense. Dad claimed it was an accident but blamed her for being in the way in the first place, and Grandpa was suddenly in the way, shoving his entire body between the father and the daughter.

"Come now," Grandpa assured Dad with a voice of kindness but eyes firing invisible blasters at the back of Dad's head. Grandpa shooed Kess away and continued words of gentle dignity at Dad as they turned the corner to the guestroom.

Shaken by her father's blow, Kess turned away from the scene, cradling the new bruise growing on her face. She and Nik exchanged a dumbfounded glance as Grandpa ushered Dad down the hallway.

As soon as the two men were gone around the corner— _Whack!_

Her father grunted.

Kess and Nik launched into a run to find Dad curled on his knees and Grandpa fumbling shaky hands to help. "Oh dear! Are you all right?"

The room swarmed with kids trying to help their father while the man held a bloody shiner on his own eye.

"I tried to catch him but he went right into the wall." Grandpa stumbled to help, flabbergasted at the event. "It was just an accident."

Nik checked the split brow on his father's temple. "Geez, Dad. What did you trip on this time?"

Dad glared at Grandpa, but he motioned to Kess. "Precious, go get me a cold-pack."

Kess jumped into action. She rummaged the cupboards for a cold pack and a swab. Grandma and Mom returned from the market while all this was going on. Grandpa updated them as to Dad's intoxicated state and the resulting accident. Mom rushed to the bedroom to take command of the situation. Grandma just rolled her eyes at the whole thing and prepared a new snack tray for everyone.

Kess was ready to run back to her father when she saw the dark smear on Grandpa's hand. She dropped the stuff and pulled up his fingers so she could tend to him too. "You're bleeding!"

Grandpa wriggled his wrist from her grip. "No, I'm not." As she fawned over him, his free fingers brushed a loving swipe across her forehead. "It's hoisen sauce. From the nibble tray. See?" He took the swab and swiped away the drip. "Cleans right off."

Kess took a second look to realize the dribble was brown, not red.

"Tend to your father." Grandpa nudged her to go away.

Now, years later, Kess couldn't be sure if the junk on his knuckles was _red_ , not _brown_.

 _Whack!_

 _"It was just an accident."_

 _Fingers swiped gently across her forehead. . . ._

In the darkened cockpit, Kess sniggered secretly, "You sneaky bugger."

As clever as he was, Grandpa wasn't invincible. He was like a dog that barked two minutes before the doorbell rang, but only if you paid attention to his moments of sudden calm and acute attention. Like any crazy animal reacting to shadows, most of Grandpa's moments of PTSD never came to anything. By the time Kess was seventeen, she and Nik often joked that the man was going senile.

Kess shuffled her boots in the hot drifts and whined about something that she felt was the end of her world. Whatever it was, she would not be able to remember the topic when she looked back on the moment a few days later. Grandpa slowed his feet in the sandy street but Kess didn't notice right away that she'd lost him. When she turned to find his body stopped in the middle of the lane, his gray eyes stretched with stiff concern to the sky above.

"Grandpa? Are you even listening?"

He muttered assurances that he was, but his firm mouth and hard eyes scowling at the sky indicated he clearly was not. He scooped the hood away from his whitened hair. His brow knitted. His mouth parted.

Kess looked up. There was only a tiny white sliver of a ship up there, nothing more. She remembered huffing with impatience that he was having one of his crazy moments again. She resumed babbling some bantha fodder about something at school, but Grandpa stepped quickly to her.

Kess moved to his gentle ushering and patted the old hand wrapped around her elbow. "It's okay, Grandpa. We're safe here. The war is over."

To that, Grandpa seemed to regain his wits, but only to look her in the eye with an instruction of exaggerated severity. "Kesselia, you must always be prepared for anything at any moment."

Kess remembered rolling her eyes at his senior quirks. "What are you talking about?"

Ben Kenobi grinned then, quiet and wise, and seemed to dismiss the whole thing by pulling her in for a firm hug, to which young Kesselia only sighed with patience. But when they pulled away again, Grandpa's smile was gone, and his eyes were back on the sky.

Like the white streak of a shooting meteor, a star destroyer slammed out hyperspace.

And starting firing at the other little ship.

Kess stared in disbelief.

Grandpa pushed her shoulder to turn around and move, "Let's get you home."

It wasn't the last time they spoke, but it was close enough. Grandma gave him a ride to the Sanctuary that very afternoon. He often went to that enigmatic hideout for weeks at a time, sometimes months, and Kess remembered being disappointed they didn't finish their conversation before he left this time.

The Lendra house was a buzz anyway because Mom was preparing for a vacation she won in a casino drawing. Dad tried to guilt her out of going, hissing comments about her leaving just so she could have an affair. Of course the idea was absurd. Nik and Kess pressed Dad to let up because the woman deserved a holiday in pampered solitude. They drove Mom to the public transport station without him.

Kess often reflected upon the vision of Alexi Lendra stopping at the top of the ramp to wave goodbye with excitement of a long-awaited adventure.

Thirty-five minutes after her transport landed at its destination, Alderaan blew up.

And when Grandpa didn't come back from his elusive Sanctuary to attend Mom's funeral, Grandma only forced a smile through peppermint eyes and said, "He had to do his duty as a Jedi."

It was the only time anyone said anything about Grandpa being Jedi, but when Kess and Nik compared notes later, it all started to make sense.

Grandma died in her sleep not long after that. Nik was the unfortunate one to find her body. Before the authorities (namely, Dad) came to whisk her away for a third funeral, Nik removed two keepsakes from her person. He gave Grandma's wedding locket to Kess and, for himself, Nik kept Grandpa's last note:

 _"The time has come for the next generation to take their place in history. And I must do my part. Thank you for everything. The Force will always be with you. And so will I."_

He didn't even sign it. It didn't much matter because they recognized his flowing handwriting anyway. That it was a note of pen on paper instead of note by datacard was evidence enough that it was from Grandpa. Nik and Kess were thankful the man at least had enough heart to leave Grandma a note.

Through Dad's inebriated mourning, he hardened over Grandpa's abandonment, pointing out the old geezer left them on his own accord. Losing half their nuclear family within a month's time only gave cause for hate to crystallize in the Kenobi-Lendra clan. And since all the remaining uncles and distant cousins were on the redneck Lendra side, everyone was quick to jump to Dad's conclusions of hatred and conspiracy.

Now, sitting a dark cockpit with a lightsaber on her hip, fidgeting absently with the blue Lieutenant dots on her collar, and only meters away from 'Grandpa's Jedi duty', Kess grinned sadly, but with fresh understanding, of the entire long story.

 _There is no emotion, there is peace._

 _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

 _There is no passion, there is serenity._

 _There is no death, there is the Force._

Kess wondered if Grandpa ever 'glowed-up' to see Grandma after his death, if Grandma was Force-sensitive enough to see him, and what they would have said to each other if such a visit were possible.

But _celibate_?

In the worst way, Anakin Skywalker showed the galaxy the old Jedi way was broken. Luke Skywalker inherited the duty to 'fix' it. And Obi Wan Kenobi, for 19 years hiding in shame and regret after allowing it all to happen in the first place, had to bridge the gap between father and son without a Snowball's Chance On Mustafar to even explain himself, much less receive forgiveness for his colossal mistakes.

Kess realized it didn't matter if Obi Wan Kenobi remained celibate or not.

After all he must have suffered in silence for 19 years . . . ?

And having a general idea of what was going to happen _next_ . . . ?

Kess concluded that Obi Wan Kenobi earned the right to break a little Jedi protocol.


	17. 16 The Lendra Family

Leia released the call and stood from her desk to rush to the Senate meeting before it was over. She didn't like being late for these things, but galactic politics was an interwoven mess right now. Lately, she was getting more done _away_ from the Senate floor than _on_ it. These were the days an imperial government with its singular authority had a vaguely pleasant appearance.

But that's all it was: an appearance. Simple was not synonymous with Better. They had a lot of work to do to be ready for the advance on Coruscant, namely stoke the bravery of a dozen systems so that all forces would join the effort. And it was hard to stoke such bravery without being able assure that other efforts were in the works.

Winter came in through the door before Leia managed to leave it.

"General Reeikan," Winter announced, "with members of the Lendra family."

Leia took a breath and nodded approval for this interruption. She stepped back to her desk and set her folio aside. Perhaps she'd make the next meeting instead.

Centered in front of her desk with honor and respect, Leia stood strong and waited.

Reeikan was in civilian clothes for this. He ushered the group into the office and remained aside of these discussions. It was quite possible the Lendra family never realized he was a General.

Leia recognized them from photos. The woman came in first. Gina Lendra. Young but punchy, with short black hair clipped around her ears and neck like a skullcap. Sharp eyes found Leia with recognition as she led a seven-year-old boy by the hand.

The lad, blonde, blue eyed, fat-cheeked and curious, wearing the sand-white tunic of a Tatooiner, took in the grandeur of the office as if his observation skills were on overtime. Ben. Leia smiled with warmth to see him. If she didn't know any better, this young man was the striking image of a Kenobi bloodline.

The elder strolling in behind them certainly was not. The man who had to be Kess's father, Dane Lendra, stepped to the side to take in the room too, but with a sour grimace at all this pomp. His chocolate and charcoal attire matched his demeanor.

"Mrs. Lendra. Mr. Lendra." Leia bowed. "My name is Leia. I welcome you to the Yavin System."

Gina Lendra stepped up and tried an uncomfortable bow, but then stepped a little closer with a timid demand. "Where is my husband?"

Leia's eyes flicked from Gina to Dane, then to Reeikan who admitted the failure with his eyes, and back to Gina. "He's not with you?"

Dane shifted his feet and yelled across the office. "Where is my _daughter_?"

Leia spread her palms and calmed them all with a look. She gestured Gina kindly to one couch and sat down on the other. She spoke carefully, "Jedi Lendra is on special assignment right now. She is safe. We hoped to bring the whole Lendra family to Yavin so that we could ensure your safety as well."

Gina started—

Dane reached over the back of Gina's couch. "Safe? How is she 'safe'? One minute, I get a 'regret to inform you' letter from that bastard Jedi of yours, and the next minute I have to learn it on the _news_ that she's alive?"

Leia bit back her reaction. _Oops_.

Dane paced around the couch to yell closer into Leia's face. "Lady, I didn't come here to help your Alliance. And I didn't come here because I think this place is safe for my family. I came here to kill that kriffin' _sonofabitch_ who put her in danger in the first place!"

Sharp eyes turned up, scolding the towering man to back off. Thankfully, Reeikan was cool to intervene.

"Mister Lendra, please sit down before I shoot you."

Dane's jaw remained chomped with anger, but he backed off from the Minister of State and paced back behind Gina's couch.

"I apologize for the lack of news about your daughter, Mister Lendra," Leia said. "We have no excuse." She angled her eyes back to Gina. "But a situation has unfolded in which we need the assistance of Nik Lendra."

Gina shrugged that off with a moan, "Yes, I know. As soon as he found out Kess was training, he kept talking about training too. I told him it wasn't worth the risk. We have a young son," She pleaded to Leia. "I know you need more Jedi. And if we were not trying to raise a family, I'd be all for it. But we need him _home_. Surely you must understand that."

Leia squinted. "I am only aware of the _invitation_ to Nik Lendra from Master Skywalker to train as a Jedi. The last I heard, Kess hadn't heard back from your husband about it."

"Well then where is he?" Gina stressed harder.

Leia brought her fingers to her mouth.

Gina continued, ranting the ridiculousness of all this as her worry tightened. "He left me with a note! Something about taking his place in history! And the Force will be with you and," she swallowed hard. "He didn't take any money, he didn't pack any clothes. He just _left_. Kess got him so worked up over being a hero and fighting for the cause, that he just up and _left_!"

Carefully, Leia lowered her hands back to her lap. "When did he leave?"

"Two weeks ago."

Dane shouted from his own pacing behind her. "And don't feed us this fodder about him leaving for another woman or taking off for Nekisa! I checked all the transport manifests. I checked all the places on Tatooine he would go. There's no sign of him!"

Leia turned her eyes to Reeikan. Reeikan absorbed it, nodded, and quietly left the room.

Leia swallowed hard and met Gina's eyes again. "Mrs. Lendra, and Mr. Lendra as well, I need to ask you some very difficult questions about your family history. . . ."


	18. 17 Splash

Kess folded the toilet seat back into the wall and folded down the sink from the space above it to wash her hands—

 _drip_

Her movements paused. Silicone spray didn't drip. She turned off the spray and listened close. She turned her ear to the bulkhead.

. _drip . . drip . . . drip._. . . Five or six quiet drips sounded behind the bulkhead and stopped.

They stopped.

She twisted her mouth and elbowed the dryer. High-powered air roared in the booth and blew loose silicone from her hands. She elbowed the giant button again to stop the air. The room went silent. Kess opened the door to leave—

She paused, curious.

She stepped in again and turned on the sink hypo, just for a moment, and turned it off.

 _Drip drip . drip . . drip . . . drip . . . . drip . . . . ._

Kess wandered into the main bay. The guys were still talking at the game table, arguing who would get use which alias, but Kess didn't join them. She shoved aside a crate, wove her fingers into the grated floor and yanked up the panel.

Han's eyes closed with anticipation of an argument. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just checking something."

She stepped down the ladder as quietly as she could, listening intensely. The skinny compartment echoed with the usual hums and purrs. She smelled old carbon, dusty canvas, greasy metal. It was unusually humid in this lower compartment, but there were no sounds of dripping.

She chunked on the lights and turned to look around to — _slosh_!

Kess looked down to find little waves lapping against the sides of her combat boots. A centimeter of dirty water drowned the solid metal deck.

Her mind went to work to troubleshoot the plumbing problem. The lav didn't use water but the galley did. Yet she thought she heard the dripping from over _here_ , not over _there_. Kess stepped carefully to prevent big waves in the shallow water as she moved, ducking to keep her head from hitting the ceiling. She eyed the open panel of the False Gravity Generator to her left and the flimsy connectors on the oxygen tanks to her right. She considered it might be better to remove the water first and fix the leak later.

Maneuvering cautiously to a crevasse under the lav, she checked the curled pipes that ran to and from the compartment above. She found two pipes darkened and wet. She fingered it and sniffed it: silicone spray and water. Glancing back to the shabby oxygen tanks, she figured it out.

The lav drain was leaking, which was no big deal, but untreated, the hydrogen in the silicone spray was mixing with the oxygen in the air, increasing the humidity to condensate until it dripped every time the atmospheric mixture got more molecules to work with. The natural humidity of Yavin 4 maintained such a wet state of things when the _Falcon_ was home it probably never got the chance to dry out. And the enclosed environment in space didn't help reduce the humidity in this un-heated area of the ship. Due to a curious presence of these unusual factors, it was essentially 'raining' inside the _Millennium Falcon_.

Kess blew up at her bangs and looked at the water covering the floor again, trying to develop a plan here. Boots clomped on the deck above her.

Someone stepped into the lavatory. Kess considered waiting to see the matter first hand, but she could tell by the bumps and scuffles that the man wasn't preparing to relieve himself or wash his hands, he was preparing for a _shower_.

The hypospray roared and pipe above began to dribble more silicone. Kess shouted incessantly and banged her fist on the bulkhead above her. "Get out! Get out of the lav!"

Han's voice neared with more annoyance than concern. "What's the matter now?"

"Get him out of the shower!" She shouted at the ceiling again, " _Turn off the shower_!"

Above, she could hear Luke yelling around the corridor at Lando.

The shower stopped.

 _drip . drip . . drip_. . . _drip_. . . . The drips sounded from all different parts of this cabin, confirming her theory.

"Blast!" She shook the icky silicone waste from her face. She stepped tenderly to weave herself further into the pipes so she could look at the drain connector up close.

Han's feet appeared on the ladder. Kess yelled for him to be careful, but before she could get her sentence out, the old pro hooked his boots around the sides of the ladder rails and slid down to land with a — ** _SPLASH!_**

Kess shouted about the water just as Han was figuring that part out. He barely got the chance to turn around before the spray splattered onto the False Gravity Generator and yellow sparks spat into the tiny space. Kess shielded her face and her stomach flipped before she opened her eyes again. With a wince, she uncovered to find Han already floating weightless a half meter above the deck.

"Dammit!" Han dog-paddled to reach a handhold on the ceiling, even though his waving arms didn't help his drift.

Lando yelped in the lav above. Chewie hooted over the 1MC in angry alarm. Artoo whistled a catcall as if he was riding a roller coaster. Luke's head appeared, already upside down and deftly climbed "up" the ladder to get down, hovering the top of his head against the deck. He reared when he found water drifting towards his face in globular droplets.

Han grabbed the closest piece of the bulkhead with his hand but his feet floated free beside him. His eyes widened at the water floating up around his feet and yelled loudly. "We've got a problem!"

Kess reached out to keep a water glob from floating into the oxygen tank connectors, trying to bat it away like a balloon. Han struggled to change his grip, preparing to launch himself across the compartment. Luke shouted at Kess as he pulled up his lightsaber. "Grab that autofoam canister!"

Han tried to turn, eyes wide, palm splayed. "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"

But Luke didn't listen. He ignited the green blade with both fists around the hilt and, with a fast poke to his 'ceiling', jabbed the deck, cutting a tiny hole in the membrane that protected them from the empty, freezing, pressure-less space beyond.

Air squealed a high pitch as every molecule rushed toward zero pressure. Atmosphere rushed through the ship to escape the tiny hole. Luke grabbed the ladder to hold himself still. Ears popped. Alarms blared. Lights flashed.

Han cussed violently, securing his floating self near the ceiling, but watched with the others as space sucked the air rapidly out through the small hole, dragging dirty globs of water with it. _Shlurp. Sshlurp. Ssssshlurp_. The water disappeared bit by bit.

Within a few seconds, enough of it was gone to be able to manage the rest. Kess fired the autofoam canister. Lime green spray hit the deck and filled the tiny hole with solid foam. She continued to spray until there was a nice thick layer of green goop on the deck, securing the breach.

The alarm continued to blare. **_BLAT! BLAT! BLAT!_** Orange lights spun on the bulkhead until Han thumbed a button to shut them up. They let out a collective sigh, but that relief only lasted a moment.

Han pulled up his commlink. "Chewie. Breach is secure. Get us some pressure."

" _Wraaah wrhh hoot warhhh!_ " Chewie complained at length.

"And power down the FGG," Han's voice was so tight that Kess could feel the sore throat his words self-inflicted.

Chewie warbled more. A clunk sounded behind the FGG when Chewie followed the order from the cockpit.

Han hand-walked himself back across the compartment, now shouting at Luke. "Next time use the fire release valve!" He pointed at the emergency valve right behind Luke's head that was built-in and designed to do exactly the same thing.

"Sorry," Luke muttered. If he had known it was there, he would have. But considering the water blobs floating towards open electronics, they didn't have time for him to look for it. Still, it was the same valve that Han was aiming for when he crossed the room to begin with, but that didn't matter anymore.

Luke and Kess exchanged a glance and watched Han move worriedly over to the FGG. The Captain use a single hand on a steel lip above him to hover in place in front of the open panel. He cussed under his breath.

Lando poked his head into the space with indigo silk floating unbuttoned against a naked chest. "What happened?"

Kess hooked a boot on a dry pipe and explained the situation to them all. "Looks like the lav has been leaking silicone spray in here for a while. The hydrogen mixed with the oxygen and sat long enough under pressure, the condensation created a lake."

Another collective sigh.

Followed by a long, stiff silence.

Luke and Kess exchanged glances again, this time followed by stiff sighs. They both eyed Han's back, equally awaiting the Captain's orders.

Han didn't look at anyone. "Kess, fix the hypo leak. Luke, mop up the rest of the water. Lando, relieve Chewie at the stick. Have him bring me a fluke meter and a screwdriver."

All three voices muttered the same words, "Aye, sir." And they all started moving.


	19. 18 Her Holiness Ro'Salia of At'Bintar

The Serra arm was a compact string of stars, swirling with a series of long-occupied planets, their rich histories interwoven by wars and treaties, their cultures reluctantly blended together like dysfunctional families. Among these six major star systems, there was a seventh: Iktri.

It was a small brown star, near to the end of its long life, hovering between the systems of Tyrona and At'Bintar, with only one viable satellite left for sentient occupation. A tiny dying planet orbiting a tiny dying sun, scientifically it shouldn't have the right parameters for its lush forests and turquoise oceans, but it did. As a veritable paradise, it should have still been occupied by its original founders, but it wasn't. Iktri was more than just the fabled birthplace of the Tyronans and At'Bintarian peoples, it was also the historically proven holy land of both ancient religions.

Tyronan and At'Bintarian scriptures told similar stories, but with key differences that cause a millennia of contention. Depending on which Evidence in Scripture one believed, each religion had the God-given right to occupy this mecca and they fought over its occupation since long before their recorded histories. The original Tyronian temples were long since bombed to dust. The ancient At'Bintarian pagodas were burnt to matchsticks. The monks and nuns in the far separated cloisters were further isolated by orbital skirmishes between the trigger-happy militaries.

When Emperor Palpatine rose to power, he grew quickly frustrated with the repeated arguments over the insignificant little system and declared a temporary cease-fire. Until the Clone War was quashed and the rebel scum dealt with, all sentients were ordered to evacuate Iktri and leave the system entirely uninhabited by either peoples until such time as the Imperial Senate had the bandwidth to dedicate focus on a resolution. Tyronan and At'Bintar grudgingly backed off, only in the agreement that neither would get the system—for now—but photos, prayers, and Communion in Exile kept the controversy fresh in their minds.

Now that the galactic government was putting a new player in the game, both systems perked with hope that this next 'Emperor' could be swayed by their rightful claim to Iktri.

Draped in robes of gold, trimmed in ribbons of royal blue, a sage sat upon a pedestal of black marble in the deepest of prayer. Her Holiness Ro'Salia was the leader of the faith on At'Bintar, the direct hand of God, the voice of reason, the preacher of peace. It was she who instructed her government to abide by the Empire's cease fire so many years ago, not because At'Bintar didn't have the rights to the planet, but because it was better—for the time being—to ensure the pristine integrity of their holy land. If At'Bintar couldn't have Iktri, Tyrona couldn't have it either. H.H. Ro'Salia insisted that God was patient and a resolution would eventually shift in their favor.

"Do come in, Ambassador." Ro'Salia said in a liquid voice before opening her eyes to see who it was.

Ambassador Danje strutted into the heavily-decorated mediation room looking entirely out of place in his business attire. By tradition, one should kneel to the floor and bow with deep penitence before addressing Her Holiness, but Danje remained on his feet and centered himself in front of her pedestal with his head cocked like she owed him a favor, essentially beginning this meeting with an insult.

Ro'Salia noted this internally. She brought her praying hands from her knees to her lap and adjusted her jaw with equal resolve. "What can this humble monk do for you?"

"The Convention," Danje said.

"I am aware of it."

"Imperial elites are pressing your government to confirm the heir."

"I only speak to my government on matters of faith, Ambassador."

Danje lifted his chin to expound. "But this _is_ a matter of faith, your Holiness. The next leader of the Empire will have the power to dictate who possesses Iktri." He shrugged to add, "Without a vote, if they want to."

Her chin shifted again. "What do you want?"

Danje inhaled hard and strolled cockily across the floor in front of her. "If the Convention confirms an Imperial heir with singular power, you have a fifty-fifty chance of winning Iktri. You know Tyrona will press for a resolution as soon as we have someone new in charge. _Half._ At _best._ The decision could go either way. Yet, if the Convention confirms the Grand Moffs to retain power, even if only as wards, those odds reduce considerably because they stand to gain mining access of your precious little planet through Tyrona's industrial unions."

Ro'Salia almost grinned. "I presume you have a suggestion you wish to pose?"

"Neither." Danje turned his feet to her with a firm stomp. "I propose to let _neither_ option rise to power."

Her brow arched. "As I understand it, At'Bintar is impaired from choosing any other option." She shrugged her hands, "But I am a simple monk. I know nothing of galactic politics or . . . _rebellions_."

"Even if that rebellion could open mediated talks between Tyrona and At'Bintar as to the final possession of Iktri?"

"Unless the rebellion has some assurance that Iktri will return to its rightful people, I see no reason to rock the boat."

Danje flashed a smile. "But the boat's going to get rocked whether you like it or not, your Holiness. In less than a week, we're either going to have a new Emperor or a Grand Moff calling the shots, and neither of them are going to give a damn about your Evidence In Scripture."

Her voice grew cold. "What do you want?"

Danje stepped up and stopped a foot on the rail of her pedestal, draping an arm across his knee so he could lean in and meet her in the eye. "I want you to consider the possibility that the Alliance might have a solution to your Iktri problem. At the very least, they will listen in fairness to both sides of the discussion and work towards an amicable solution."

"If the Alliance takes Coruscant, I'm sure At'Bintar would be happy to turn its banners peacefully and take advantage of whatever forum they would offer. But there a lot of 'ifs' between here and there."

"True. So, let's start with the first 'if'." He angled his head and eyed her harder. " _What if_ the Alliance had a proposal that At'Bintar would benefit from hearing?"

She smiled caustically. "That would be treason."

"And what if At'Bintar could hear it without the risk of committing treason?" He watched her absorb that and asked again. " _What if_ At'Bintar was in a position to hear it 'by accident'? Complete with the full freedom to walk away the moment the discussion fell into the definition of treason?"

"Why are you not going to my government with this?"

"Because it's not treason if Her Holiness is only in the room to save degenerates from going to Hell."

Ro'Salia face bloomed with a deep, rich laughter. Old eyes shined on the ambassador with humor. "Petra sent you." She nodded with wisdom. "I see."

Danje stood back on his two feet again, rolling his shoulders in haughtiness as the aged woman laughed at him and his politics, but he wasn't deterred. "The At'Bintar government listens to you. And the finality of Iktri's possession makes this a matter of faith to which you have every right to speak upon."

Ro'Salia lowered her chin again, listening.

"I beg you, your Holiness, please come try to save their lost souls. And so what if you happened to present to 'accidentally' consider words from the Alliance."

She didn't say yes. She didn't say no. Ro'Salia simply raised her chin and spread her palms in blessing. "May the Force of God be with you, Ambassador. I thank you for your visit."


	20. 19 Parts

The cramped under-deck wasn't designed to fit four people. After securing loose gear, sopping up floating water with rags, and tying down Artoo, Luke and Kess hung from rafters like monkeys in the main bay and waited for Han and Lando to come to a stopping point before returning to the scene of the disaster. They listened to the deep, warbled talk below and knew they were in trouble.

Zero G wasn't a big deal. Zero G in hyperspace wasn't a big deal. _Stopping_ hyperspace in Zero G was a deal _killer_. No matter how they worked it, or how gently they slowed down, or how tightly they secured themselves into straps, if they fell out of hyperspace without false gravity, their bodies would be squished to puddles by the G-forces of the sudden stop.

Luke and Kess remained quiet and let Han justifiably worry.

In the silence of the long wait, Kess poked a tiny voice at Luke, "Have you ever had sex in Zero G?"

Luke blubbered a blush, "What?"

The way her brown eyes shined, Luke realized he heard her right the first time. He shook his head and broke the gaze. "No."

She didn't say anything at first but, after a moment, she whispered secretly across the bay. "I hear it's really cool."

Thankfully, she stopped talking about it when Lando's head emerged. Luke reached out a hand to give the man something to grip and pulled Lando up so he could work the handlebars in the ceiling himself.

Han came out too, gliding a mere hand span above the deck by way of fingers in the grated floor. He maneuvered himself to sit in the chair and strapped himself in at the engineering station. His orders continued to fly with a stiff throat as he punched keys and pulled up schematics.

The accident fried the components in the variable controls in the FGG, the part of the programmable circuit that set how much gravity the unit would pull. They couldn't bypass the circuit or the signal would indicate no gravity at all: they'd go _splat_ the moment they killed hyperspace.

They couldn't rig the circuit to make it 'lie' about the gravity or the signal would indicate _maximum_ gravity: they'd go _splat_ the moment they completed the repair.

No. The circuit had to be replaced. Not the whole unit; just the fried part of that one circuit. But _Falcon's_ parts stores were already plucked of anything of useful during many previous adventures. The pickings were thin. Kess loaded tools for the trip, but not parts.

(At least the duct tape was useful on the lav pipes.)

It was a team effort with little real conversation. Han isolated the circuit by cutting the traces with a razor and prying away flat roads of metal from the board so they wouldn't arc. Kess stood by with a piece of the schematic on a datapad, calling out which identifiable components were near the traces he had to cut. Luke floated down with a portable power supply and handed the alligator clamps to Han to clip onto component leads.

Resistors were blackened and reeked of burnt carbon. A fat, gum-looking capacitor lost its little cerulean head. A big, brown burn discolored an otherwise tan circuit board, precariously near the THX1138 chip. With care and attempted precision, they floated with their heads too close together so Han could determine which components truly needed replacement.

Upon the ready order, Luke thumbed on the power switch and pumped current through the circuit. Han went immediately to poking the board with test leads, calling out for Kess to read off the meter in her hand.

When that part of the grueling procedure was complete, Han checked one more time on that chip. "Now?"

Kess read the meter. "Nothing."

"How about now?"

"Zero zero." Kess dropped the meter from her sights.

Han admitted defeat. "Okay, turn it off."

Luke thumbed off the power.

Han let the meter leads float free and started gingerly pulling off the alligator clips. "All right, Kess." He muttered over at her. "Time to pay your fare."

There weren't any 47 ohm resisters in the locker, but there was a 12 ohm and a 35 ohm resistor that could be wired in series. _Check_.

The capacitor was a common part and it took only a half hour to find a circuit that had one. With permission to disable the starboard cargo hatch for the rest of the trip, she soldered out another blue gum-looking cap out of the gaping wall panel. _Check_.

The diode was a little difficult until Lando's eyes lit up with an idea. Asking again what resistance it needed to be, he rummaged through a drawer of panel light bulbs. The diode didn't need to be a light, but as long as it allowed the current to go only one way at the right resistance, it didn't matter if it lit up when it did the job. _Check._

This small handful of parts grew in Han's palm. He stuffed the precious pieces into the breast pocket of his black jacket, thinking aloud. "What uses a THX1138 that we don't need?"

Luke swam to the console to pull up more schematics and complained, "Don't you have a search engine on this thing?"

Chewie floated in the cockpit corridor to keep watch on what was going on. He hooted.

Han shook his head at Chewie's suggestion. "It's not a 1138 though."

Kess pulled herself hand-over-hand to the game table and maneuvered to strap herself in for the break. They all had taken turns at a nap in all this, but Kess was growing wearily in need of a full night's sleep. Her arms were getting tired and her stomach still spun from the Zero G. For a moment, she wished she were a droid.

She looked at Artoo Deetoo with envy.

And she frowned.

Lando pulled out of the corridor with more in his hands. "Solder and shrink wrap." He handed all of it to Han.

As if the little droid were Force Sensitive, Artoo slowly swiveled his head to aim a vituperating optic back at Kess.

Han studied a datapad and called out, "How close is a 1127 to a 1138?"

Chewie hooted a negative. Han let go of his grip to scratch his ear and grabbed hold again quickly before he floated out of reach.

Artoo sharpened his red optic at Kess and beeped with scolding.

"What?" Han blurted, not understanding the words but hearing the tone of the beeps clearly enough. He shoved himself to swivel around and barked across the room. " _What_?"

Kess shifted her eyes to Luke, her face already scowling with guilt.

Luke's eyes widened to saucers.

Chewie hooted. Han got whiplash to listen and shouted out at Artoo. "You have one? You have an 1138?"

"It's part of the control system for his memory circuit." Kess pulled her gaze away from Luke. "He'll be hardly more than a light switch without it."

Han pulled himself over, hand over hand, his legs floating almost parallel behind him. "But you can fix him later, right?"

Kess turned sad eyes to Artoo. "He's been filling those memory chips for a long time." She winced feebly at Han. "I can't guarantee it won't wipe his personality in the process."

"He's a droid!" Han shouted, the frustration pouring out, but he yanked back his words and bit them out of the air.

Yes, Artoo was only a droid, but it was _Artoo_. Han owed that trashcan his life. It was clear he realized that by the sudden look on his face. Han huffed hard and, almost Jedi-like, took a moment to gather his wits and calm his panic.

In the silence, Luke stared sideways at his little buddy across the bay and considered if it was really worth risking the droid's functional life to save their own.

 _Attachment is forbidden._

Han pierced the silence with a grunt at Kess. "Keep looking."

Kess swam across the bay with exhausted desperation to resume the search through the schematics.

* * *

Serious, but still routine, Yana watched the words on the screen unravel one by one and jotted down notes in a datapad as they flowed. But a familiar name popped up within the rest of the junk communique, one that had her inhale and sit up to make sure she was reading it right, then turn to call over her shoulder. "General?"

Reeikan stepped up behind her. "What is it?"

Yana pointed.

His eyes flicked across the message to read the whole thing, not just the name within it. He sighed sharply and reached for a commlink from the desk. He paused until the other end of the line picked up.

"You were right." Reeikan said. "They're claiming Lord Vader was once Obi Wan Kenobi."


	21. 20 Brain Surgery

Nothing.

At least, nothing they could use.

They found four other THX1138s aboard. One in the air supply controls, one in the hyperdrive controls, one in the heat controls, and one in the pressure detector. Plucking any of them from any of those systems and they were all just as dead.

If Kess hadn't come along, no one would have jumped into the under-deck compartment to splash the water in the first place. If Kess hadn't come along, no one would have known Artoo had an THX1138. If Kess hadn't come along . . . Luke took frequent moments to beat back the tentacles of anger sprouting from of his soul.

He could hear the tightness in her voice. "Can we rig the pressure detector to stay at its current settings? As long as it doesn't make any adjustments—

Han hooked an elbow around a grab bar so he could hang sideways and still use both hands to peal open the pop-top lid of a can of protein paste. "Only works while were still in space. We're going to have to land in an atmosphere to get a replacement part." He shoved a tasteless bite of paste into his mouth. "We'd be crushed the minute we hit atmo."

Lando took cockpit watch so Chewie could come out and eat. A furry hand offered a little can and a sample-sized spoon towards Luke's lap. Luke somberly took the food. He stared at the open canister and tried to force himself to eat, but he couldn't. As he listened to the rest of them debate ideas, Luke looked up only enough to gaze at Artoo with crease of despair in his brow.

"What about the air supply?" Kess posed. "If we pump the cabin with enough oxygen before disabling it—

Han shook his head. "Don't have time. We'd have to wait for the last minute before shutting it down. By the time we get the chip going in the FGG, we'll be well passed our drop point and shooting off to the other rim." Han shook his head and scooped another bite. "That close to the core, what do you wanna bet we're aiming for another planet on the other side of our target drop point?"

Anything the Falcon detected in its unintended path, the collision alert would drop them out of hyperspace whether they liked it or not, and they'd be dead.

A small, still-childish piece of Luke _wanted_ Kess to feel bad about it. He could sense she was more worried about Luke's suffering than the direct loss of Artoo, and he grew angry at her for not considering Artoo as important as he did.

Luke rubbed his lips and meditated harshly. He realized his worry and guilt for sacrificing Artoo was converting itself into insult and anger as it oozed out of his mind. He gritted his teeth and reminded himself to grow up to his own damn knighthood.

Luke licked his lips and lifted his head, but didn't look at anyone. "I'm so sorry."

Artoo warbled a question.

All went silent as Luke unstrapped himself from the chair and pulled himself across the bay to the droid. Luke looked him straight into the optic and assured with a nod, "I'll be careful."

Artoo Detoo whistled something hopeful at him, blatted something at Kess that sounded a lot less polite, and powered himself down.

Trying to dismantle the droid in zero gravity made it harder, not easier, for Luke to control his fingers in the floating air. Han kept one hand on a bar in the ceiling and used his free hand to hold Kess's floating ankle, keeping her relatively still in the middle of the open-space bay. Luke strapped himself down by the waist and reached into the droid's guts with painful grimaces. He pulled out memory cards one by one, handed them to Kess so she could wrap them in static-protective bags. She tucked them into an emptied datacard box like they were fragile jewels.

The procedure was excruciating. Luke paused at every step and gritted his teeth at every yank. He called out their designations as he went. Tied in at the game table, Chewbacca recorded all of it so they would know how to put the unique droid back together again when the time came.

Careful. Slow. Intense. Silent. Step by meticulous step. Finally, the 400 degree pen-iron poked into the droid's armpit and, soon, out came a THX1138.

Luke placed Artoo's sacrifice into Kess's gloved palm.

As soon as the part was free from the droid and his worried owner, Han pierced the silence at Kess, "Go."

Kess handed Luke the box of precious Artoo brains. He switched off the solder gun and handed it to her. She crawled quickly across the floor and slipped down the open hatch like a snake. Han followed her down. Luke snuck to the edge of the open grate to watch the tops of their heads.

At this point, Han could do nothing more than hand Kess tools when needed. Flux tape, pen-iron . . . _sizzle_ . . . and out came the old one. She threw it over her shoulder to float away in the still air. Han grabbed it out of the space like he was catching a lazy fly and stuffed it into his breast pocket so it wouldn't cause any more problems. Kess was slid Artoo's precious gift into place. Solder, pen-iron . . . _sizzle_ . . . and Kess backed up so Han could get in there to test it.

Lando closed his eyes and prayed.

Han unraveled the alligator leads from the power supply and Kess unraveled the fluke meter.

"Now," Han snapped.

"47 ohms," she replied.

"Now?"

"328 ohms."

"Okay. Voltage." Han thumbed on the power and Kess switched the fluke meter's test function. Han angled his elbow and focused before poking the two leads into the freshly soldered circuit. "Now."

"Four point nine." Kess said, trying not to grin.

"Now?"

"Point two three."

"Here?"

"Point two seven," Kess breathed a fresh smile.

"Done." Han kicked away from the FGG and shouted for the cockpit. "Power it up!"

Han maneuvered himself feet-down and Kess did the same, hanging crookedly from a pipe above. Luke pulled his belly flat against the deck with fingers woven into the floor like he was gripping a chain-link fence.

After a moment, the FGG power indicator lit up, all three of them watched breathless as the big magnet in the dark depths began to spin and—

—stomachs flipped as the floor pulled them all down once more.

"Ha!" Han laughed, adrenaline pumping. He stomped over to the unit to check it. Thumps and tinks echoed all over the ship as everything fell: crates, loose bolts, empty protein canisters. . . .

Luke did a push-up to get off the deck and climbed to his feet with a difficult sigh.

"What're we at?" Han's voice echoed as his head popped up from the floor. He climbed out from the compartment.

A Chewie warbled back.

"What did he say?" Kess asked as she climbed out behind Han.

".98 G." Han reported, smiling grittily, and shuffled to hand the tools back to an emerging Lieutenant. His voice called strongly to bounce around corners toward the cockpit. "What's our ETA!"

"About fifteen hours!" Lando called. "Just enough time to get some real sleep!"

"So ordered!" With a half-grin of amazed sincerity to Kess, Han said, "well done."

Luke glanced to the exchange and felt a curious swell from Kess. It was good to see her getting along with Han, but if Artoo didn't recover, Luke wasn't sure if he'd ever forgive her for it.

Kess and Han rushed to put away the rest of the gear. Han's voice still grated as he was still coming down from the stress. "Chewie, you need a break?"

Chewie hooted something and Han shuffled, tangling with test leads to cram them into a drawer. "All right. I'm comin'!"

As the Captain left the compartment, Kess glanced toward Luke, but not directly at him. It didn't matter. The two Jedi could sense each other's mood with their eyes closed.

Luke turned away to secure his comatose droid in straps for the rest of the trip.

Kess turned away to scoop up tools from the floor and sought out the furthest corner of the ship to put them away.


	22. 21 The Jedi were on their own

The floor grating cut into to Luke's bare feet as he crossed the main bay, but it was good to feel gravity again. Carrying his long boots in one hand and a bundle of clothes in the other, he stepped tenderly down the sharp-floored corridor wearing only a pair of slate blue boxer briefs. He stopped at the open door to the cockpit, stuffed the clothes under his elbow to free a hand, and poked a shoulder into the room. "Thanks."

Han was leaning deeply back in the pilot's chair with his feet crossed on the other empty armrest. He hardly glanced at Luke before shoving the yellow lollipop into his mouth and dropping the datapad to free both hands.

Luke tossed an electric razor across the space and turned away.

Han caught it with his open palms. He yanked out the lollipop again. "Hey, Luke?"

Luke was already gone but heard it in time. His super-dry, untrimmed hair fell into his eyes when he popped back around the doorway.

Han tucked the electric razor in a side cubby. "You can hot bunk it with me if you want."

Luke diverted his eyes and closed his mouth. He hadn't thought of that option, but now that Han mentioned it. . . .

Han was gracious enough to offer his wider bunk to the couple so no one would have to sleep on the deck. Sleeping next Kess on the _Falcon_ , even during a business trip, didn't give Luke much reason to pause. Besides, amongst family like this, Luke had no reason to be shy. He was walking across the ship in his underwear, after all.

But Luke rested his wrist on the door jam and paused to consider the offer. Han was going to be on watch for several more hours, leaving his current bunk free for use. She was already in the other one, and Luke only now realized he had avoided going to bed the same time she did so he didn't have to face her yet.

He realized his avoidance was to spare himself the attempt at a reconciliation that might not end well. Whether she was supposed to be here or not, they were on a mission. Luke felt the Jedi pair shouldn't talk out their personal differences until they returned to Yavin 4. Besides, how could they possibly resolve this one before knowing if Artoo was going to be okay? He rubbed his eyebrow with difficulty.

"Want my advice?" Han said, picking up the datapad again and shoving the lollipop inside his cheek. He gave Luke a serious eye and an arched brow of severity. "Bunk somewhere else until you guys can duke it out."

Luke would have said 'no, not really' but he didn't get the chance to respond before the advice was distributed anyway. Still, he granted Han a grin of thanks and backed away to the corridor again. He thought about it as he watched his feet pluck painfully down the hall. He knew Han's advice about women could be valuable if taken in the right context, but there was a level of complexity in a Jedi relationship that Han could never understand.

Or could he?

Luke never actually decided whether or not to bunk with her. He just ended up there as if out of some kind of habit. It took a minute to find a compartment with enough empty space for his clothes. Then he gingerly placed the box of Artoo's brains in the padded mess before closing the locker door.

He couldn't imagine flying _Five_ without Artoo. And now he remembered that _Five_ belonged to Rogue Group anyway. _So much for having symbols of stability._ And look how much he defied the very core of the Jedi Code that time he grabbed her ass and shoved himself inside of her, already addicted to the power of it.

No wonder the old Jedi were celibate.

Luke squeezed his eyes shut and fought the truth of how unstable things were with this woman in the mix.

He glanced over.

Her shirt-shrouded back splayed against him in the cubby as though she were trying to cuddle with the cold wall, pretending to be asleep. It took only an elementary Jedi skill to verify that Kess was not asleep. Her Force print prickled with painful spikes of worry, just as his did. Perhaps this was her way of avoiding _him_.

Luke and Kess had spent the night together four or five times by now, just enough to start losing count. He considered the vast difference between the days in public and those nights in private. They were like an X-wing with no standard thrusters but with super quick hyperspace engines. They were either at a still-in-training style emotional standstill, drifting closer only on the inertia of a true Jedi partnership, or they were behind a closed door getting naked to race the Kessel Run as if they were playing catch up.

Luke knew this bi-polar emotional speed could only lead to a dark-sided disaster. Somehow, they needed to find a manageable pace. But Luke had not one shred of an idea how to do that.

And yet each time he thought of trying to break the tension today, his throat tightened with anger and insult that she offered up Artoo like sacrificial bucket of parts.

Luke clenched his jaw.

And turned away from the bunk.

Kess listened his bare feet pick away down the corridor and her soul crushed like fruit in a juicer. She tried to convince herself he left just to go meditate, but somehow she knew better. Tears seeped from her eyes and into the pillow.

It was the first time Kess wished some dead guy would come glowing into their lives with a word of advice, but on this topic, it was no surprise the new Jedi Order was on their own.


	23. 22 Decoding Leia's Message

"Stand by for sub-light engines."

The purr of hyperspace fizzled, stopping the wavering streams back to motionless stars. In a comfortable cruise through real space, Han slid the _Falcon_ toward a lane of cargo traffic and merged with the commuters. Kess was still braiding her hair when she walked the rocking ship to the cockpit so she could see the Big Apple with her own eyes.

Lanes of interstellar traffic strung out in all directions like metallic strands of a spider web holding the knot of a planet suspended in space. The shine of a distant sun scintillated against the pewter city surface in overlapping circles of continent-sized neighborhoods. The Galactic Core was a frozen hurricane of stars in the distant backdrop of it all.

Han and Chewie seemed to be just as interested in the mess and patrolling security as Luke and Lando watching from their seats in the back. Luke was the only one to notice Kess had joined them, and all he did about it was shove a datapad in her hand when he unstrapped himself to get to work.

"Are we recording," Han asked.

"I'm on it," Lando swiveled his seat toward the port-wall console and bent over the communications and sensor array. "There's a dozen messages here," he complained. "We don't need to decode all of this, do we?"

Han turned his chair to jut his head next to Lando's. After a quick read, Han pointed. "It's that one." As Lando downloaded the message, Han returned to piloting them into a holding pattern for their turn at a border-patrol checkpoint. "Leia flooded the address so they wouldn't know which one to hack."

A shiny hot rod of a ship elbowed its way in front of the _Falcon_ to cut in line. Chewie only grunted but Han gestured at the window and yelled obscenities as though the other pilot could hear him through two hulls and a kilometer of empty space.

Amidst Han's ranting, he yanked the stick to angle the _Falcon_ into a different lane of transport traffic, but a shiny Nubian cruiser zipped into the empty spot and slammed on their dampers in the lane in front of them.

Han raised both hands in the air with a whine. "What kinda conspiracy is this!"

Kess was glad the _Falcon_ didn't have anything resembling a horn or Han would be leaning on it.

But then Captain Solo reached for the trigger and readied to shoot one across the Nubian's bow.

Chewie belched a word.

Han chomped his jaw and pulled away his finger from the trigger. "Fine."

Lando joked. "Are we sure we want to take this planet back?" He swiveled his chair around to face Luke who was now sitting again and swiveled to face Lando.

"Ah, there's a Plan Dorn we never considered." Luke quipped as he shuffled another datapad together in his lap. "We can liberate the rest of the galaxy and let the Imperials just _have_ Coruscant."

"Plan _Dorn_?" Kess was lost. "What happened to Aurek, Besh, and Cresh?"

Luke focused more on shuffling the references than the discussion but glanced at Kess, realizing she had enough Need to Know _now_ to earn her an explanation. He blinked up, flicking his head to get the hair from his eyes. "I suppose if we had assigned code words, it would be. . . ." Luke, Han and Lando exchanged looks to think and agree aloud:

 _Plan Aurek_ was to take Coruscant first and immediately send an auxiliary fleet along the Serra Arm to neutralize any back-up forces stationed there. But Admiral Ackbar didn't have the confidence the New Alliance would have a strong enough fleet after the Coruscant assault to secure six more star systems.

 _Plan Besh_ was to come at Coruscant _via_ the Serra Arm, cleaning out any Imperial Forces along the way. But General Madine didn't like how much time that would give Coruscant to mobilize their forces and recall other nearby help by the time the real battle began at the capital.

 _Plan Cresh_ was something Luke had to explain because he invented it only last week when he talked with Leia about his meeting with Ambassador Danje. He enlightened the team that "Plan Cresh" was about taking Coruscant, Cagharten, Flan, Tyrona, Kein, Helmba, _and_ At'Bintar _all at the same time_.

Kess had never heard of half those planets. Her eyebrows stretched under her bangs at his audacity. Han scoffed without pulling his attention from the traffic out the window. Lando arched a brow at Luke like the kid was nuts.

Luke shrugged.

Lando motioned to the datapads they'd been fumbling into their laps for the whole discussion. "Maybe we should just follow Her Highness's orders instead?"

Still standing in the doorway between the two men, Kess watched them bring up references and begin.

It was a book cipher. Leia's mail message looked like a database record without the field designators. Only the date was easily legible, and even that was misleading. Luke referenced editions of The Coruscant Press five years older than Leia's message indicated. The rest of the message was simply sets of numbers separated by semicolons and commas.

Lando began to read aloud. "Date: 4, 27, 233—" He paused and eyed Luke.

Luke thumbed pages until he said, "Got it."

"Article 3." Lando paused. "Line 17." He paused again. "Word 2." He waited.

" _Heir_."

They both looked at Kess.

She rattled her head and remembered the datapad in her hands. Scrambling, she threaded her elbow through a handlebar so she could use both hands to thumb in the note without falling down during Han's potentially violent flying.

Lando reported the next date. Then the Article number. Then the Line. Then the Word. Pausing between. Each Step. So That. Luke. Could. Look. It. Up.

" _Details,_ " Luke said, nudging Kess's boot with his own to wake her up so she could write it down.

Kess typed in the second word and squinted one eye. Lando went through the whole procedure again and Luke produced the word, " _Released_."

Kess gave in to the torturing insanity of this. "This is kind of a cumbersome means of communication, isn't it?"

Lando and Luke exchanged a gaze. Chewie glared a gray eye over his shoulder at Kess and snorted something.

Luke's Force print prickled like pop-rocks. "Yeah, it's too bad we didn't bring Artoo along, huh?" His sarcasm ended in glare of smoldering scorn.

Kess clenched her jaw so hard that her lips curled away from her teeth.

Han turned his chin to his shoulder as if barking at kids misbehaving in the backseat. "Will you two get it out of your system _before_ we land in the hornet's nest!"

Luke dictated icily, "She and I will work it out when we get back to Yavin."

Without taking his hands off the controls, Han stretched his eye back to Kess, checking for her settlement on that.

Kess shrugged with the voice of a small knife. "Whatever your Lordship commands."

Luke's whine sang out in the little room. "And you wonder why I didn't want to bring you on the mission!"

She whined right back at him. "I'm not the one being a Sith about it!"

Han cut the air with a louder shout, " _If I have to pull this ship over—!"_

Chewie coughed out a chortle. Lando leaned back in his chair with a tight chuckle at Han's deliberate wording.

The comment pierced Kess's discomfort and shattered Luke's anger. They both blushed and grinned, embarrassed at their own behavior, but still weren't ready to meet each other's eyes.

Lando snuck his voice into the moment with gentle honesty, "Luke, we'd be dead right now if she didn't point out that Artoo had that chip."

Luke closed his mouth and rubbed his lips. He nodded imperceptibly.

Han jabbed a pointed finger back at Kess to defend Luke just as quickly, "And if you refer to him as 'Vader' one more time I'm gonna smack you myself!"

Kess dropped her gaze with full humility.

"Come on, kids." Lando motioned both of them to relax and get back to business. "Let's decode this thing." He eyed them to make sure they were ready and read, "Date: 2, 33, 433 . . . Article 7 . . . Line 22 . . . . Word 5. . . . "

As Luke counted through the lines, he brought on boot forward on the deck just so he could cross his ankle with hers. The gesture was the secret equivalent of holding her hand and squeezing an apology. He finished his counting and lifted his head to report the word, " _Stop_."

Kess typed it in. And she shifted to lean against his chair so she could give his boot more of her boot to cuddle. His eyes flicked up for a moment to match the gesture, and her eyes looked down with forgiveness and a loving request for him to quit being a butthead.

The whole decoding procedure was repeated again, to which Luke managed a deep sigh and a little smile of humility. " _Empire_."

After a lot of grueling traffic and meticulous teamwork in decoding, the message read:

Heir details released stop Empire claims Vader was Old Ben stop brother is missing stop OTHER family safe stop Seek confirmation of heir identity but do not act stop Will incorporate rescue with final gathering stop Force be with you stop Organa

Luke secretly watched Kess as Lando broke down the message in simple chunks and read it over for everyone. As the Falcon continued its crawling approach toward the Capital, the group discussed in detail what Leia's message meant.

 _Heir details released._

 _Empire claims Vader was Old Ben._

 _Brother is missing._

 _Other family safe._

 _Seek confirmation of heir identity but do not act._

 _Will incorporate rescue with final gathering._

 _Force be with you._

 _Organa_

"They have my brother," Kess gasped.

"Maybe it is a good thing you came with us," Luke murmured.

"But we're not allowed to save him?" She was appalled.

Han noted, "He's not in danger."

Luke tried to offer assurances. "If they're going to pass him as the heir, they're going to take very good care of him. He's going to be fine. We'll get him back when we take Coruscant."

Kess sat back and slumped. "But we're not Kenobi blood, _or_ Palpatine blood," she stressed. "The minute Nik has to prove his DNA at this convention . . . Luke, they're going to kill him."

He took her hand then. "We're not going to let that happen."

Kess insisted, _"How?"_

Luke held her gaze, but Luke didn't have an answer.


	24. 23 On Approach to the Hornet's Nest

The spread of the planet filled the visible view of the cockpit window when Han announced they were coming up on the gate. Chewie continued to fly at a crawling cruise towards the border-patrol checkpoint and Han walked himself between the seats, stopping mid-cockpit to cower over Kess like a vulture and wagged a finger at the tip of her nose. "Not a scratch."

"You wouldn't notice if I did." Still, she moved like a shy squirrel afraid to come out of hiding. The men climbed to their feet and moved out of the cockpit one by one, shuffling Kess forward only to get her out of the way so they could leave. She stood between the front seats, overwhelmed at the glaring mess of border-patrol checks and the over-populated planet beyond.

Chewie raised his long arm into the air, planting an oversize paw on the top of her head without needing to get up, and shoved her to plop down in the pilot's seat. With one hand remaining on the yoke, furry fingers typed a bunch of stuff onto a datapad and tossed it into her lap.

Kess's eyes dashed across the datapad screen. She immediately reached to wrap the headset over her braids, switched the subspace channel and proceeded to follow Chewie's orders without a blink of an eye.

Luke had paused and peaked around the corner to watch all of this. Now he grinned and moved to the back corridor. Lando's head looked decapitated sticking out of the deck. As Han yanked up a second floor panel for him and Luke, Lando scrunched his body into the smuggler's hold and sighed in sarcasm as he disappeared. "Ah, it's good to be home."

An hour later, Kess strengthened her voice into the mike and reported the _Falcon's_ trusty alias. " _Lead Dove_ to Gate Onith 27. Passengers only." She glanced over to Chewie who was watching her like a hawk. He listened to the control tower in the cockpit just as she did, but he didn't talk. He wasn't human, and so, per Imperial Law, had no right to be Captain.

"No cargo yet," Kess told them. "We're picking up medical equipment from the Coco Freedas Hospital in the Temple Precinct."

The story was iron clad because it was true. The only part about it that wasn't true was that this ship wasn't the _Lead Dove_ , but it was a full Coruscant day too early to run into the real _Lead Dove_ for anyone to know the difference. The _Falcon's_ serial numbers were engraved upon parts of the ship frame that were (now-a-days) easily replaceable. The _Falcon_ could change out her 'identchip' as easily as her crew.

They stopped at the station-sized gate and Chewie released the clamps to allow inspectors aboard. The snobby droids didn't give one whit to the sentients flying the craft. They only cared that there was no spice in the _Falcon's_ false atmosphere to set off their sensors, and no cargo in the hold, supporting the naked manifest. The _Falcon_ cleared orbital customs without a hitch and flew into the atmosphere, well camouflaged by hundreds of other transports crawling towards the planet, right next to another long string of transports trying crawl out of it.

The closer they lowered into the atmosphere, the bigger and louder Coruscant grew. The Force buzzed in Kess's head like a swarm of bees. Skyscrapers made of mirrors stabbed the sky like thorns on a cactus. They cruised along the high lanes until they reached the circular continent of the Temple District. A black pyramid Palace rose out of the iron and silver landscape like a charred Olympus-Mons. Even in broad daylight, the immense circular market lane lit up with neon and fluorescent light. Ships crossed the sky in a hatch work of gnat-looking speeder traffic, cutting into canyons as deep as the eye could see.

Chewie flew coolly along the lanes, chin up, eyes shifty, obeying all traffic laws to move from one lane to another, incrementing closer to the surface and turning into new lanes as if he knew exactly where he was going. As soon as he was sure they weren't being followed, Chewie plunged them down away from the uptown traffic for the dank, industrial neighborhoods below.

They sank into the depths of metallic slot canyons until they could see the sun no longer. Chunks of buildings built atop other buildings rose into the air like cliffs in all directions. Cheap lamps and dying equipment lit up pieces of polygon caverns. Raw-cut walls of corridors and apartments opened to the canyon like veins long drained by the massive razor of 'progress' that once sliced them rudely open.

It didn't take long to find an abandoned landing pad amongst the deep mess, made so because the base of the new building next to it cut off the pad's walkway. Industrial services rarely spent funds on taxis to get to a landing pad, and since there was no other way off this wide ledge, there was little reason for anyone to land here. Occasional droids zipped along the canyons on their single function orders, all ignoring the _Falcon_ entirely.

Upon the thud of landfall, Kess yanked the lever for the moorings and Chewie flipped switches to shut the whole thing down: engine, life support, false gravity, lights, _everything_. From the distant populated levels above, the _Falcon_ would look like just another piece of broken equipment bolted to the deck. Gravity shifted and strengthened beneath their feet. New air blew into the vents smelling of soot and garbage.

Chewie hooted a quiet sentence and left her behind in the cockpit. Kess listened for the tone of his voice as he left. He could have said, "Well done."

But it was just as likely he said, "Don't fuck this up."

The men climbed out of the smuggler hold as Kess and Chewie met them in the corridor. Han distributed blasters and holsters. Lando produced two tiny cameras to strap onto his and Han's upper arms. Luke verified everyone's burner commlink was in working order and the other three burner numbers were programmed in.

Kess chunked down the ramp control and broke the seal of pressure. On the little pad outside the ship, she crooned her neck to look up the canyon of city overhead. The buildings reached hundreds of floors in all directions, flying traffic blurred into streaks, all of it nearly blocking the entirety of the far away sky.

"This place is _noisy_ ," she whispered with a distasteful grimace, absently double-checking that her lightsaber was still on her hip. She wasn't talking about the audible commotions and Luke knew it.

Luke stepped up beside her and looked to the slit of sky far above. Less than a dozen klicks from where the Imperial Convention was likely to be. If they had any dark force users there, Luke half-expected he'd be able to sense any Sith as soon as they landed.

But in this _mess_. . . .

In tender agreement to her observation, he touched her back as he passed her. Yet both sets of eyes stretched with overwhelmed discomfort at the cacophony buzzing on the Force here.

"Let's get to work."

They all filed out of the Falcon and parted for their individual tasks. Luke fished out a roll of cable from a storage locker and Kess latched one end to a notch in the _Falcon's_ chassis, making extra certain it was secure with a clamp. Han unraveled two climbing harnesses on the pad. Lando stepped to the edge and peered down. "That has got to be fifteen meters." He glanced back toward Luke, "Are you sure we have enough cable?"

Luke stepped backwards, unraveling the cable roll as he walked, and passed Lando with a smirk. "Let's find out." Before going backwards over the edge himself, Luke tossed the entire cable roll over the side.

Luke and Lando leaned gingerly over the edge to watch it go. Han started to speak but Luke pressed a finger to his lips. Luke then cupped a hand around his ear and waited. When he heard the final _plunk_ in the distance below, he smiled big at the others. "Yes we do have enough cable."

Lando grinned and pulled up his commlink from his belt. He stepped away to 'make the call'. Luke moved to Han now standing over the climbing harnesses. They only planned for two people to leave the ship and therefore only had two harnesses.

Han motioned at the straps splayed out on the deck and scorned Luke. "Are you sure about this?"

Luke grinned at Han's sensitivity and nodded at the man. He would have used a harness if another was available, but if anyone could get down without one, it was the Jedi.

Han strapped himself into one of the harnesses and Chewie stepped behind him to help snug down the straps and buckles. Lando trotted over and rushed to do the same for himself. Luke helped ensure Lando was strapped in nice and tight.

Kess stood by with pockets full of leather gloves and carabineers. She held up the cable so Lando could clip on his carabineer and thread the rope around himself. As soon as he was prepared, he motioned for everyone to clear the cable. Dressed in black leather and indigo silk like he was ready to go clubbing, Lando gave Kess a cute little salute and disappeared backwards over the side.

Luke noticed the smile Kess gave Lando in return. He wondered if she was simply amused at the Lando's antics or actually endeared by them.

Chewie warbled conversationally and Han answered with nods and mutters as he stepped to the edge. He opened the commlink channel and waited. It took less than a minute before Lando's voice came across the link. "I'm down."

Han pocketed the commlink and straddled the cable. He secured the climber's grip to the harness at his stomach and tightened the straps around his thighs. Kess carefully lifted the cable so he could snap on a carabineer and ready himself for the rappel.

He paused once more to assure Chewie he'd be all right. He slipped on his black jacket over his white shirt _and_ the body harness because it was the best way to carry the jacket down with him. His Imperial Officer's boots inched backwards until his heals hung over the edge. He gave Chewie a flick of a grin and vanished.

Chewie bowed his big body over the side and watched even after they could no longer see Han in the darkness below. As they waited in silence, Luke reviewed his Jedi plan of attack how to get down this cable without a harness.

He felt an unintentional poke on the Force and shifted his eyes over to Kess. Brown eyes watched him with tension.

Luke got the sudden sense that he was walking on thin ice with the woman. Once Han reported through the commlink that he was down, Luke moved to her and pulled on the pair of tan leather gloves from her hands. He couldn't tell if she was avoiding his eyes or just focused on the task. He watched the top of her head as she pulled the cable back up so he could grab it. She offered him a couple of carabineers but he shrugged that his chocolate slacks and tan tunic had nothing upon which to hook them.

Kess reached over, grabbed his lightsaber hilt, and yanked his body closer with it. Like an angry mother forcing a child to wear a helmet before playing in a dune buggy, Kess clipped a carbineer onto the lightsaber D-ring and slapped it down to clip him to the cable. Not that the belt would be strong enough to hold him indefinitely by the hip, but it was better than nothing.

Without any fancy wraps or pulleys, Luke stepped backwards beside the cable and simply held onto with his own two hands. He paused at the edge, looking down beyond his own hip to the unlit cavern below. He could barely see Han and Lando down there looking like two fleas moving about in dark earth. With a deep inhale through his nose and a moment to focus his mind, Luke straightened his back and opened his eyes to—

—see her standing there, worried, understanding, hopeful, sad, focused . . . and emotionally braced for just about anything.

Luke glanced to Chewie.

The Wookiee cocked his head and hooted a short, friendly sentence. Luke needed no translation. He thanked the man the man with a grin, and looked at Kess again. Inside, she swirled with conflict. Outside, she remained focused on the mission.

Luke returned his full feet back onto the deck and motioned her over.

"What's the matter?" She rushed up, taking the cable from him and looking for ways to help. "Do you want another carabineer?"

Luke didn't answer. As soon as she was within reach, Luke grabbed the front of her collar and pulled her jumpsuit into him until her mouth landed on his.

As if he'd pressed some kind of release button on her forehead, her body went limp into his command. She forgot about the cable and dropped it. He held her cheek with his gloved hand and kissed her whole mouth for several beautiful seconds.

He intended the gesture to assuage her concerns about their recent discomfort with each other. A part of him used it to reward her for being so Jedi about all this when it was clear she craved a moment of romance. But Luke found he was growing just as drunk in the kiss as she was. Half of his mind complained that this 'fodder of trying to be all professional during a mission was just plain stupid'. The mind in his _skull_ , however, pointed out that this 'tidal wave of craving after only a brief goodbye kiss was precisely why they needed to remain professional in the first place.'

The dark side and the light side swung like the procession of a yin-yang on a lottery wheel, centripetal forces gently slowing the wobble toward a stop, but not without causing sharp anticipation of which side, dark or light, the final tally would land.

 _Passion_ can feel just as 'right' as _Peace_.

Luke let the kiss end naturally and sighed with equal parts worry and warmth.

Kess blinked herself back to the present. She rattled her head with a blush of surprise. Luke grinned guiltily and bit his lower lip with new lusty ideas, but he forced himself back to work.

And Kess took a step back to let him go.

He shuffled backwards until his heals hung off the ledge, he gripped the cable with both strong hands and threaded out several meters of slack.

Luke met her eyes one last time, grinned briefly, and jumped.


	25. 24 The Streets of Coruscant

The circular travelway was so large it was hard to see the curve in the street ahead of them. It would have been four lanes wide if ship traffic could get down here, but only pedestrians filled the shopping lane. A gently arched ceiling enclosed the market district five stories above, painted in powder blues and fluffy whites, and lit from behind as to make it look like an unblemished sky, yet they were still dozens of levels under the true weather deck of the Temple Precinct.

Themes divided the market travelway into kilometer-long sections. Each link in this chain blended parts of different cultures, like a mish mash of recipes to bubble with its own unique flavor. Luke, Han and Lando strolled through it all like any other group of shoppers, letting the tiny cameras strapped to Han and Lando's arms record the detail for them.

Bongos and bugles sang through hidden speakers until the volume faded in the distance behind them, only to be replaced by dime-pipes and dulcimers coming from the speakers ahead of them. Street performers balanced on unicycles as they juggled screaming tribbles. One section reeked of saffron and salsa; another of fresh urine and stale rain. They passed a slave market with shouting salesmen in light-flashing clothing. They slipped by several brothels with moving light displays of Cardassian genitalia. They pretended to browse through fresh food markets with racks of imported vegetables still on the vine. Fried liver and onions here. Fish and seaweed there. Roasted peppers and rice cakes. Teen girls adorned in glitter and gold walked their Wookiees on leashes through the mall to shop for shoes. Juicy fruits smashed into the faces of candy-colored children as their parents dragged them along. Neimoidian and Narn, Klingon and Kilrathi . . . you name it, Coruscant had it.

Everything, Luke noted, but peace and quiet.

By the seedy flavor of things down at these depths, Luke realized this must be the working class levels of the city, and this made sense. Lando's contact wasn't going to be some fancy heir holding court in a penthouse loft, not if the spy was going to sneak them into the undercroft of the Senate Dome.

This particular link of the round Temple Precinct lane was decorated with green and pink neon lights. Potted plants flowered fuscia in front of honey stucco facades. The stores here smelled of nagchampa incense, candle wax and leather oil. Lando's eyes paused on the flashing signage to translate the text in his head and strutted into the gentlemen's club without a blink.

Han and Luke stepped to the arched entrance and felt the music throb onto their faces. They took one look at the entertainment inside and saw skin flickering under strobe lights and purple neon. Han shuffled his feet to a stop before going in.

He motioned Luke over and leaned his chin to lower his voice. "Do me a favor, will yeh?"

Luke's paused and tucked over to listen, but his eyes never left the skin on the stage.

Han muttered as he watched, "Don't mention it to Leia we met our contact at a strip club."

He glanced at Luke see if Brother Jedi would have a problem with that.

Luke grinned guiltily back. "Ditto."

Han flashed a big smile, slapped Luke on the shoulder with pride, and the pair strutted into the seedy bar together.

Lando's contact was reportedly well-deep in the criminal works of the Coruscant underground. He lived entirely Off The Grid which was quite an accomplishment for the over-tracked and over-controlled public of the capital planet. His contacts in the Kein system were deep-rooted and numerous but he never set foot on his home planet. Stories professed that he was abandoned in the Temple Precinct as a child and through the years clawed himself up to the rank of a veritable crime lord. Like a Wookiee, he was infamous for removing the limbs of his enemies. Like a Neimoidian, he was known for slaughtering competition with the apology of 'it's just business'. And like a Hutt, he knew how to sling the sick pleasures of the people for profit. With such a description, Luke was hardly surprised that the meeting would be in a strip club, but it never occurred to Luke to ask what species they were looking for.

Despite the illusion of daylight outside, the walls in here were painted black and unlit of anything but strobe and neon. Exotic dancers banged their hips in time with the grungy thud of music. Lando picked up one shot glass from the three and turned his back to the bar to look the place over, pretending to watch the show.

(And watched the show too, since he was here.)

Han passed the second shot glass to Luke and sucked down his own drink with a deep blink to keep his wits in this place. Luke sipped the liquor but didn't swallow the whole thing, not because of any duty/drink work ethic per say, but because he was distracted.

The hairs on the back of Luke's neck stood up the moment they stepped through the door, and it wasn't due to any curvy bodies bumping around to attract tips. (Although those were distracting too.) Luke turned to lean an elbow on the bar, using the move to allow his gaze to scrape through the dark room. Lando's brows knitted hard over his nose to look around but not landing on anyone in particular. It was as though Lando's contact wasn't here. Han just enjoyed the show and after a minute, ordered up three ales from the holo-waiter.

Colored spotlights followed the belly dancers around the room, but all the patrons remained unlit in their seats. A few men moved around, in or out, to and from, but most of the population sat around tables drinking, chatting, and watching the show in darkness while well-lit naked women pretended to do things not appropriate for public display.

Luke noticed a man lounging against a wall booth at one end of the room, no different from any of the others, except that _he_ was the source of that unsettling instinct in Luke's mind. Something about the man felt like scraping fingernails on a chalkboard in the Force. Luke wondered if that was the contact, but Lando looked straight at the character more than once and dismissed him as easily as he dismissed everyone else.

Luke settled against the bar and stared his eyes at the stage to make a show of watching the show, but focused his peripheral vision on that wolfish creature in the corner. The human lounged deeply in the angle of the seat as if half-melted with his own attitude and watched one of the be-bopping bodies with lustful focus. He paid no attention to Luke, Han or Lando.

Luke relaxed his stiffly secret attention for a moment and took a long swig of his ale. He pinched away visions of rattling body parts from his mind and took a moment to clear his thoughts.

Lando turned to take his mug from the bar and muttered to them. "He's not here."

Han's eyes grazed over the place once more and turned toward Lando to mutter back. "What do you want to do?" It was his contact; it was his call.

Luke turned his attention to huddle and listened for their next move—

A big hand slapped hard onto Han's shoulder and spun him around. A matching fist swung into the smuggler's jaw with a loud _crack!_

Beer went flying one way, and Han Solo went flying the other.


	26. 25 Speeking Wookiee

Chewie returned to the corridor in a gangling stroll with a pair of datalinks in his hand. He ducked into the main bay without looking at Kess. He shuffled to look around a little, then motioned her over with a hoot.

Kess tucked away the half-eaten protein bar into a pocket and stepped up for orders. Chewie was looking for something else in the room. He blindly shoved the datalinks into her boob for her to take. Kess took them and stepped back, watching the big beast pull out a pair of folded chairs from the corner. Furry fingers flicked her forward ahead of him.

Kess offered as she went. "You want me to run top side and find us some parts for Artoo and the FGG?"

Chewie blurted a single note. " _Harph_."

Kess disembarked to the landing pad as instructed turned around to find him lumbering down the ramp behind her, now with his crossbow hanging from his one fist and a pair of chairs hanging from the other. He jabbed a finger at the chairs and then jabbed a finger at the deck where he wanted them to go, hidden under one of the _Falcon's_ mandibles but near the open ramp.

Kess unfolded both chairs and Chewie squatted down onto one of them. He rested his crossbow against his knee to free both paws and motioned over the datalinks from her. Attentive, Kess sat down in the other chair and handed them over, but he took only one. He shoved the other back at her. The Wookiee settled back in the chair, huffed an easy sigh, and typed with two, fast, furry thumbs.

Kess realized this was all about simply having a conversation while they stood guard for the others to return. She read his message from the little screen of her datalink. It was a single word: **Yes**.

He grunted a note. " _Wrr_."

Her brows knitted. "Yes to what?"

He looked at her and grunted the note again. " _Wrr_."

Her brows remained knitted at him. Force senses didn't help. All she could detect was the low, calm buzz of logic coming from a man simply trying to have a conversation.

He typed something new and looked at her. Chewie barked another short note. " _Harph."_

She read from the link: **No**.

He barked this short note again. " _Harph."_

Kess realized this note was a significantly different in tone from the first. She sat up straight with the sudden hunger to learn something new. "'Yes and no.' You're teaching me how to understand you."

He grunted the first note and the second note in rapid progression, " _Wrr y harph,"_ then typed a bunch onto his link.

Kess read: **Yes and no. I am teaching you how to understand WHAT I SAY.**

Kess smiled and settled into the chair. "Fair enough."

He typed a lot more then, and Kess waited until he hit enter before she looked at her screen.

 **By the way, if you cannot put R2D2 back together the way he was, I am going to rip your arms out of your sockets.**

Kess grunted a growl of her own, "Get in line."

Chewie hitched a low scoff at her reaction, probably because her tone admitted that she would deserve it.

Today was the first time in almost a year that she and Chewbacca spoke directly to one another. Although they saw each other on frequent occasion since the Frakkan mission, it was always in a crowd with one or both of them forgotten in the backdrop of some Solo/Skywalker focus. Aside from that moment months ago when Chewbacca barked an un-translated warning at her about breaking Luke's heart (probably accompanied by another threat regarding arms and sockets then too) this was the first time Chewie acknowledged her existence.

Kess was secretly honored at his invitation to learn the grunts and hoots. He was casual, patient, and used the datalinks teach her some simple words and soon let the exercise fall away to small talk. Each of his entries came accompanied by a verbal statement in which he broke down and repeated the hoots upon request. Although there was no way Kess was going to become fluent without extensive classroom instruction, she was beginning to get the idea how his growls broke down into singular ideas.

Kess was so focused on understanding him that she didn't notice right away that she was being questioned, yet she didn't really mind when she did notice. She trusted him too much to worry about his curiosity and answered his queries without hesitation.

Hanging sideways over the foldable chair, she fidgeted with a loose lock of hair behind her ear as she thought how to answer this last query as to her Jedi career and her former Master's opinion on the subject. "He won't cast his vote about it. I think he wants me to quit and be a Jedi full time, but he won't say so. And I understand why."

" _Wrrarurh_."

She thought about the noise in her mind and guessed what she thought it was before looking at the datalink. Kess smiled inwardly when she guessed it right.

 **Why?**

She looked the Wookiee in the eyes and pressed a shy grin. "With all due respect, that's between me and Luke."

He turned his eyes down, typed a little bit with his thumbs, then looked at her again and warbled a sentence.

 **Even Wookiees don't report to their own mates.**

Kess shrugged a brow to that. "What choice do I have? If I stay on active duty, I give up every Jedi thing I trained for. But if I quit, he's the only game in town."

" _Harph,"_ Chewie grunted, eyeing her, " _wreh harrrph."_

Kess noted he didn't type the words into the datalink this time, but she met his gaze and sensed what he said more than she translated the notes in her head.

 _No, he's not_.

After a moment, he snorted the equivalent of a Wookiee grin and pushed out of his chair to go to the bathroom.

His words were a revelation. Kess stared at nothing in the air to find she'd been bouncing like a ball between those two ideas: Stay in the military or report to Jedi Luke.

Only now did she realize there could be a Plan Cresh.


	27. 26 Zach Vanech of Kein

For a split second, Han and Lando dove to fight back the single assailant. It was that creature in the corner, now standing solid as stone to pick a fight with Han. Lando stepped into the mess to keep Han from falling from the original blow, his white teeth glowing in the black light as he gritted for a fight. As he shoved his body toward the attacking man, Han regained his balance and, glaring with hostility, reached to shove beyond Lando to attack the guy back.

Luke was too surprised about _being_ surprised and barely managed to put down his beer before it was over. The four never got the chance to come to blows before Trandoshan guards were prying them all apart again.

Luke began to reach for his lightsaber, but he stopped himself. Forgotten on the side of all this hostility, the Jedi stood at the ready and watched a split second more. Lando shouted at the guards about not ripping his clothes. Wart-covered hands yanked the fragile silk as if it was a dog collar and shoved Lando forward with it. Han elbowed against the blaster point poking him toward the exit.

A third Trandoshan pointed a blaster at Luke's nose. He raised his palms with smirking surrender so he could walk out of the building on his own power. Luke stepped out behind the rest, watching Trandoshans pick up bodies by their collars and belts and threw Han, Lando, and the attacker out to the street one by one.

Shoppers stepped around the growing pile. The attacker was already starting to climb out from under Lando when Han's body landed on top of them both. Three angry men punched at each other just to get up. The violent scramble caused enough of a scene in the open street to attract a nearby security patrol. (Which was why the Trandoshans threw the men into a dog pile in the first place: get them out of the bar and let the cops make sure they didn't come back.)

Red and blue lights spun on a striped speeder now lowering onto the wide walkway, singing sirens and blaring orders to cease and desist in seven languages. Luke glanced up at the cops and instantly realized the risks, alias identchip or no. He whacked the back of Han's shoulder who, in turn, grabbed Lando's sleeve to yank him into paying attention to the real problem that was now descending over their heads.

But a pair of ice crystal eyes leered at the police with sick pleasure as if that was the plan all along.

Luke's senses sparked when Lando flared with recognition.

In that split-second the four stood in the open pink and green light, surrounded by shoppers rearing away and security dropping onto their heads, Luke took the moment to fully observe Lando's contact.

The human stood nearly two full meters tall, with a twice-baked complexion stretched tight over wiry muscles. Thread-wraps tied back braids and dreadlocks of long, mahogany hair. He looked like hadn't shaved in a week and hadn't eaten in a month. Black leather boots reached above his knees. Leather of obsidian and coal covered his limbs as if his only wardrobe requirement was to camouflage with shadows. He looked like a slave, a smuggler, and an assassin, all at the same time. Force Empathy didn't help determine if this creature was friend or foe because this man just, plain, didn't care about _anything_.

The moment Han and Lando looked at him, the man gave them a cocky smirk, stepping backwards and spreading his palms as if to invite them to ' _bring it on'_. He turned old boots away from the crime scene and bolted into a run.

Like a band of bad boys busted for robbing a liquor store, Lando, Han, and Luke raced down the travelway behind him to escape the now-landing security speeder. Pedestrians dodged out of their way. Grandmas called obscenities at their backs. They jumped over park benches, darted around potted plants, and slid across the hoods of parked speeders, all following the local boy to the secret escape route through which he was sure to disappear.

"Security! Halt!" Called a mechanical voice through the loud speaker behind them, but none of the four men paused to consider the request. Their elusive leader curled around a corner and slipped into a head shop. Lando darted in after him, Luke was right on Lando's heals, and Han rubbed his jaw with a thirst for revenge as he ducked into the store at the rear. An Aleena cashier squealed at the intrusion but the four men were gone again through a stairwell in the back before the cashier was finished screaming.

As if the attacker was leading the way, the four men jumped down several flights of stairs, each pair of boots pounding on each landing with uneven blows. The first slammed through a door on an abandoned level several stories below. One by one, they punched through the slow-closing door and ran hard across an open floor until the door drifted and clunked closed behind the last of them.

The pound of running boots began to quiet in the deep echo of the unoccupied level. Their leader reached the other end of an abandoned parking garage and curled around the edge of a far wall before he stopped his trotting feet. As Luke, Lando, and then Han, slowed around the corner with him, the man kept his eye around the wall and on the distant doorway to make sure they weren't being followed.

Han dropped his back against a dusty duracrete wall and licked the crack on his lip. Luke set his hands on his hips and took a single deep breath to come down from the run. Lando leaned forward to drop his palms on his kneecaps and gasped for breath at the floor. He motioned a palm through is huffing. "Luke Skywalker. Zach Vanech."

With shoulders still angled for war, Vanech pulled Han and Lando's arm-strap cams from a pocket in his own pants and dribbled them to the floor. With hard brows and an evil glare at Han as if to say, _what are you gonna do about it_ , Vanech lifted his hard-healed boot to stomp the tiny electronics into dust.

Luke rolled his shoulders back and lifted his hand to Force Pull both cameras through the air into his palm before Vanech could crush them out of commission. When the man glared at Luke, Luke tucked both cameras into his breast pocket and decreed, "You can have your privacy, but we're keeping the equipment."

Vanech rested his weight onto one foot and set his hands to rest on skinny hips. Ice eyes assessed the Jedi up and down as if taking inventory on what he had to dominate.

Luke merely arched his brow, lifting his chin with strength. He noted how close Vanech's hand rested to the blaster holster strapped to his thigh, though the contraption in it didn't appear to be a blaster. It didn't matter. Luke broadcasted his feelings onto the Force that he wasn't an enemy, but he sure as hell wasn't going to lose if Vanech attacked him.

With an open hand hanging an inch from the lightsaber at his thigh, Luke glared a warning at Vanech and waited.

To that, Zach Vanech snorted a silent scoff and dismissed him entirely.

"Is there someplace we can talk?" Lando said, now standing his full height with breath regained.

Vanech grinned like they were all idiots and turned around. He shoved open a broken access hatch once built for antiquated housekeeping droids, and disappeared in the unlit vent.

Hesitantly, they followed. Vanech led the way through the abandoned droid access, still with tire marks in the soot. The only light was the red LEDs to inform the missing droids that certain paths were blocked, and the occasional crack in the frame from other compartments still in use. In seconds, Vanech yanked open another broken access hatch and ducked out of the maze to stand tall in a filthy restroom.

He didn't wait to see if the others made it through with him and he didn't acknowledge the stranger at the urinal, now squinting curiously at four men climbing out of the wall. Vanech strutted along the length of the restroom and shoved open the bathroom door to the bar beyond.

The walls were recycled sheet metal from dozens of different buildings. The lights were mismatched street lamps stolen from public sectors. Blaster chars smeared the chipped paint of the server droid at the bar. A Wookiee bouncer saw them coming and stood on his feet, but Vanech waved him off and thumbed as if to say 'these three morons' were with him.

The criminal slid into a round booth in the corner and slumped down on the edge to man-spread one boot into the aisle. As Lando, Han, and then Luke slid around to sit at the table with him, Vanech pulled a brown death stick from a breast pocket and lit it up.

A server droid rolled up to the table, this one with old graffiti of boobs and nipples painted on her otherwise respectable frame. Vanech pulled the stick from his lips with thumb and middle finger, raised his face to droid. "Four lagers." He thumbed over his shoulder at Lando. "He's buying."

His voice sounded like the deep gurgle of a gasoline engine, one that purred passively when it was at idle but had the power to tear off and leave you in the dust before you noticed anyone reaching for the accelerator. His Inner Rim accent made his sinister tone that much more frightening.

He slid his eyes passively toward Han. "You were always sloppy, Solo, but that was downright embarrassing."

Han shrugged his hand. "I got married."

Vanech hinted genuine humor to that. Smoke curled up around his squinting eyes, eyeing Luke again for a moment, then turned his words to Lando. "So. Calrissian." He kicked back. "What do you want?"

"I hear you know your way around the Temple Precinct underworks like you were born here."

Zach spread his palms to point out in silent sarcasm. _We're here, ain't we?_ He stared at Lando with a wisp of impatience to get to the point.

Han got to the point, "We need to get into the Flan Embassy."

Vanech's eyes shifted to Han.

Luke added, "And the Senate Dome."

Vanech's eyes shifted to Luke and darkened.

Lando knew Vanech wasn't here for old time's sake. _Let the barter begin._ "Name your price."

The droid rolled over with a tray of lagers. They all shut up until it rolled away again.

Vanech fidgeted with lager as he considered this at length. He sucked in another hit of poison into his lungs and blew the smoke out his nose. With fingers pinching the edge of his death stick, he set his elbows on the table and grinned insidiously across the space to Luke.

And said nothing.

Lando murmured finally. "Can you do it?"

Vanech broke the stare with Luke and petted his lager glass instead. "The Senate Dome will cost you a thousand credits. No negotiation." He turned his eyes to Luke, "But I'm not taking the boy scout."

Han didn't skip a beat, "The boy scout is the one that needs to get in there. No negotiation."

"Then let me save you a trip." Vanech chewed on the end of his death stick and leered at Luke. "Darth Tovecus isn't your brother."

 _Darth Tovecus._ At least now they had a name, but Sith titles didn't indicate anything about the true person behind the facade.

"How do you know?" Luke challenged.

"They're passing him off as a Kenobi." He sucked a drag and gestured with his stick. "Which is dependent, of course, on convincing everyone else that _Vader_ was Kenobi."

Luke shifted his chin and narrowed his own eyes.

"They must've found somebody new to play their pawn."

Luke let that go. "Is he safe?"

"Who? Tovecus? I'm sure he is. But gold binders are still binders." Vanech angled his head again. "Why do you give a damn?"

Luke released a breath and considered this data. He worried for Kess's brother.

"You know him," Vanech realized.

Lando looked at the table. "We think so. But we need to know for certain. That's why we need to get into the Senate Dome when they present him at the convection."

" _During_ the convention?" Vanech hissed hard. " _Five_ thousand credits."

Lando blinked deeply, "For a _walk_? Don't play games with me, Zach—"

Vanech gestured at Luke and interrupted Lando, "You're lucky I'm not charging you a thousand credits for having to sit at the same fucking table with the man."

All three men reacted to that. Han snorted. Luke whipped back with insult.

But Lando kept his cool. "What about the Flan Embassy?"

Vanech grinned almost imperceptibly at them. "Why do you want to get into the Flan Embassy?"

Han didn't want to tell him but timing was critical. "I need to see Prince Petra."

The criminal hissed an evil grin. "The party is by invitation only."

"I have an invitation," Han said back.

Vanech pointed at Han beyond the death stick, "No, Solo, you're _wife_ has an invitation." He sucked the smoke into his mouth with iced pride. "And so do I."

Lando shifted. Luke studied. Han blinked.

He bit his lower lip and grinned at them all. "Besides, no way any of you fools are getting into that gig without the whole Empire seeing you coming from a parsec away."

None of them believed it but Lando was the one to call him on it. "How did you get an invitation to Petra's party?"

Vanech shrugged smugly. "Somebody's gotta provide the entertainment, right?"

Han glanced to Lando. Lando closed his eyes.

Luke squinted. He almost said, _What kind of entertainment?_ But he stopped himself. It dawned on him when the maturely graffittied server droid rolled by. Luke closed his mouth.

Vanech flicked a brow and gestured to Luke. "I suppose we could wax him hairless and leash him in leather as an appetizer for the Trandoshan guards." He sucked another drag of his stick and grinned more, humoring himself with the image. "If that's the plan, I'll do it for free."

Luke spread a palm and whined. "What did I ever do to you?"

Vanech hissed back. "I wouldn't need to scrape a living in this armpit if your daddy hadn't slaughtered my whole fucking family in the first place."

Groaning with weariness of all this, Luke rubbed his eyes with his fingers.

Han put palms out on either side of him to get both men to back off the old grudges. "Let's focus here, guys."

Lando was already shaking his head, largely because dressing any of them as a Trandoshan sex slave was the wrong way to deliver the Alliance's invitation of treason. "That plan is not going to work."

"No use going to a gig destined to be crashed by troopers anyway."

Lando batted the ball right back at him. "So how much is the Empire paying you to walk them to the door?"

"Why? The Alliance willing to top their price?"

Han aimed at Vanech. _"No."_

Ice eyes glinted at Han.

Han put both palms onto the table top and pushed himself back to his feet. "You're full of fodder." He stepped out of the booth to leave, "and you're wasting our time." Han motioned Luke to let him out of the booth. "Thanks for trying, Lando—

"Oi!" Vanech barked with annoyance.

Luke sensed Vanech's mood shift when he realized maybe Han Solo hadn't become as sloppy as he thought.

Now standing to get out, Han pressed both palms on the table top and shoved his face over at Vanech. "Give me one good reason to finish this beer."

Vanech eyed Han equally hard. He didn't respond, but he flicked his finger, and his eyes, for Han to sit back down.

Slowly, and with tested patience, Han sat down. Luke settled, and Lando dropped his back to the booth with a sigh.

Now, Vanech leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to eye them each with the truth. "I have a vested interest."

"With what?"

"What do you care?"

"At least tell us which part of this is in your vested interest."

Vanech considered this and admitted it. "I have a death mark on my head."

As if this was supposed to be a surprise? Hands flopped out. _"And?"_

"I have a death mark on my head from when I was _six_." Vanech added. "Having nothing to do with anything I did. Every other crime I've committed branched off from that. I'm willing to pay for those. Due my dues, bribe, fuck, serve, I don't give a damn. But that first one, that first one has to go away before I can walk any world as a free man. And the only way that's going to happen is if the Empire ends."

Luke sensed decades of frustration and despair emitting from a man who was trying to exude anger and hatred, and Luke began to put the pieces together. "How old are you?"

Vanech eyed Luke with a clear gaze. "Old enough to remember why Imperial Palace is still called the 'Temple Precinct.'"

Even though the other man's hatred sliced sharply through the smoke of his death stick, Luke began to grin. "And, I'm guessing, old enough to remember personalized evidence that Vader _wasn't_ Kenobi?"

"First fucking hand."

It all made sense now. This man was very good at being a criminal except for the truth that he never _wanted_ to be a criminal, yet there was no way to change his lifestyle as long as the original Order 66 was still on the books. Luke's tongue shoved into his molar but his calculating grin remained obvious, and he realized now that the small cylindrical gadget in Vanech's blaster holster was a Padawan's first-issued, child-sized lightsaber.

Luke fell back in the seat and crooked his jaw in deep contemplation. His grin grew. "Are there others?"

"Don't even think about it," Vanech hissed, dismissing Luke entirely, and turned to Han. "Do you have a human posing as Captain over Chewbacca?"

"Why?"

Vanech sighed with parental patience, "Because if you lunatics think that every horizontal surface of this district isn't being watched by the Coruscant Guard, you are most certainly out of your minds. Before I continue discussing terms, you're going to get this weasel out of my sight. And if you want any chance of escaping this ugly nest after all this is over, you're going stop being amateurs and get the _Millennium_ _Falcon_ to a safe harbor."

Han glanced to Lando.

Vanech nodded to lay his cards down. "Those are my terms if you want to continue this discussion."

Lando glanced to Han, then both glanced to Luke.

Luke nodded and pressed his palm on the tabletop. "Then let's get back to the _Falcon_."


	28. 27 Safe Harbor

_Safe Harbor_. There was something about the way Vanech said that, something about the flowering strength of his Force print when he uttered those words.

Luke considered the term at length as the group followed Vanech through the empty alleys and unlit hallways, eventually climbing back up to the populated levels of commerce and crime. Luke wondered what it must have been like having one's entire lifestyle slaughtered at such a young age and surviving only by becoming a street urchin of the Temple District while the Imperial Palace was being built above his head.

To grow up without a home or family, surrounded by the threat of war, without the luxury to hide, or rest, or _trust. . ._. How exhausting it must be for those who must steal to eat, kill or be killed, without ever getting a good nights' sleep between unending days of gritty survival. This epiphany gave Luke a new understanding to the power of a true 'safe harbor'.

As tough as farm life was, Luke appreciated Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru on deeper level these days. Owen was gruff and strict, narrow-minded and racist, but he was _solid_. There was always food on the table, power in the lights, and heat in the house. Owen did and said things that Luke still swore he would never inflict upon his own children. But Owen's roughness was balanced by Aunt Beru's kindness, she who was always there to nurse Luke's bruised ego after each encounter. Aunt Beru was the quiet ballast in the kitchen to give him a pat on the shoulder, serve him a glass of cool water, and sit across the dining table to listen in friendly silence just so Luke could vent about Owen's cruel discipline.

Luke felt safe in that kitchen but all he ever did there was bitch about how badly he needed to escape that blasted rock. And, all the while, Beru just sat there, hands easily clasped in front of her chin, grinning softly with unlimited patience as 'Vader's son' stormed around throwing a temper tantrum.

Looking back now, Luke wondered if Beru didn't give him more Jedi training than Old Ben did.

 _Ben_ , Luke grinned to remember. Anyone could tell Old Ben was a safe harbor just by looking at the man. The more Luke understood the original customs of the Jedi, the more he understood why. But Owen wouldn't let Ben come around often enough to present anymore than an enigma in Luke's young life. Old Ben was a hermit, a misfit, a loony, shoved away from orderly society due to his idiosyncrasies, or perhaps Old Ben was _running_ from society.

Or, perhaps, Ben was simply trying to help anyone that would let him. Luke wished he could have been bug on the wall the day Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi decided to use a wife, daughter, and two grandkids as a cover story. Thinking on what little he knew of the Lendra family, Luke realized anew that he had it better than she did. Owen Lars was a lot of things, but he was not an alcoholic or an abuser. Luke wondered why Ben let his pretend 'son-in-law' stick around for so long.

The answer was simple: Because Dane Lendra was her _father_. Step-father perhaps, but he was the only father Kess had. Luke would be the last person to understate the complications surrounding one's less-than-spectacular father.

Despite Kess's hard-luck family life, Luke figured her inner strength rooted from having her own secret safe harbor in Ben. He could easily envision Ben's arms and brown robe swooping up the crying, little girl and swallowing her whole into a hug so big and strong, protecting her from all that 'scum and villainy', that she would feel safe until she was ready to face it again. It would not have taken much for Obi Wan to whisper into her little ear and teach her how to withstand it all like a Jedi without letting on that his methods were stemmed from the original Order.

It was what it made it so easy for Luke to train her.

And so _hard_ to train her.

She picked up some practices like she'd been doing them for years, but _other_ skills? Kess wouldn't just 'not even try', she'd stand in the clearing for a moment to consider Luke's instruction and then spin around to face down the Commander-Master-Medal-of-Honor-wielding-Living-Legend and call, " _bullshit!"_

Luke wondered how much shorter her training would have been if he didn't have to spend so much time defending his own lesson plan to his apprentice. He tried to calculate how many times he dragged her out to the clearing for a specific exercise only to end up shouting in playful debate at each other the whole afternoon over the lesson's validity.

The most delicious moment began with a thought experiment about the milder forms of the dark side, using examples of a yummy meal when hungry or a drink of clean water when thirsty. Luke and Kess faced each other down, straddling that log in the clearing, yelling, laughing, and groaning at each other's crazy opinions for hours.

Luke felt his argument was simple: a starving animal forced to kill to acquire food was the dark side at work, driving a person to murder through the base need for survival. Kess fought back that conclusion meant eating anything at all was on the dark side. She added that craving certain foods for their specific vitamins or proteins could arguably be on the dark side. Luke rolled his eyes that no one kills over a stupid vitamin.

But that's when Kess got up to get a water bottle out of the duffel bag and passed out of his range of vision before muttering a sinister threat into his ear. "I haven't had sex with another person for over a year, _Master_ , so if you don't think I'd kill for some chocolate right now. . . ."

She didn't finish her sentence. She just brightened with a sudden laughter of embarrassment, "We should probably go home for the day."

Now, Luke grinned fondly at the incident, but he remembered his face screwing into a knot to prevent his apprentice from seeing the natural reaction in his expression. He remembered how many hours he tried to meditate away what his imagination brought on by her need to specify not having sex ' _with another person'._

True, the episode concluded with an M-word, but it certainly wasn't 'meditating'.

Sex. Now _there_ was an argument they never finished debating. Luke still didn't feel comfortable discussing the topic with her, even now, but especially not in the solitude and privacy of the clearing. The clearing was too dangerous for the sheer fact that clearing wasn't dangerous at all.

It started out as just a place to get away and meditate. He found it entirely by accident in that narrow space between leaving Yoda and facing his father. They were using Yavin 4 again for the assembly efforts but this time for nothing more than a momentary rock with air and gravity. He imagined Kess probably was one of the repair crew stationed planet-side back then, but they never met. In fact, he spent most of that time running _away_ from everybody.

He borrowed a speeder one day when the stress and infighting of the early Alliance thickened the Force like bitter stew so much that he had to get away from it all. Since most of the troops coagulated in some broken warehouse south of the base to get drunk, Luke drove north. He found himself following a fresh-mowed, straight line through the jungle away from Yavin Base. He reached the shield generator unit installed at the end of the road, humming protectively up to the sky, but the humming of the generator wasn't nearly as loud or as annoying as the gnats of flitting around his head.

Luke swatted away insects as he drove and hardly noticed how they faded with the growing distance. He got out of the speeder and walked around a bit, swishing away mosquitoes and grimacing his face to keep them from flying into his eyes. Luke held both sides of his head with his palms and gave in to a loud growl in a plea to make it all stop.

One zipped by his ear screaming in what were almost words in the Force, and he realized they weren't insects at all. They were _thoughts_ , tiny shooting stars of emotion, revelation, passion, craving, hope, terror, prayer, pain, orgasm . . . all of the sentient beings on Yavin Base.

He'd felt it before but not that loud. He'd meditated it all away before too, but as his skills and practice grew, so did ability to sense all that stuff without even trying. And now that every sentient being on Yavin Base was steeling themselves to go up against a _second_ Death Star . . . ?

As soon as Luke realized it was all just Force confetti raining into his brain, he concentrated to meditate it away right where he was standing. The harassment of insects drifted to silence. The air cooled on his sweating skin. He carefully pulled his palms from his ears, opened his squinting eyes and found himself standing a pocket of natural space amidst the deep green jungle, henceforth referred to only as 'the clearing'.

A.K.A. Jedi safe harbor _._

In the Force, nature was like a pond with a gentle current. Sentients were the fools who turned it into tidal waves and hurricanes. Logical thought and the complexities of civilization is what pegged the Force into such extremes as dark and light, good and evil, sex and rage, capitalism and communism. In the end, if you broke anything down far enough, be it an emotion, an act, a culture, a government, or a religion into its most basic pieces, it was all 'none of the above'.

The Force is just _life_.

And Life just _is_.

Any sentient mind hungered to step away from the mess so it could remember that it was the sentient mind creating the mess to begin with. Nature provided physical places for sentients to hide so they could stop being strong for a couple of minutes and rest their minds. And for those who couldn't get to nature, or didn't know enough about it to meditate instead, there would always be places like Aunt Beru's quiet kitchen or Old Ben's hugging arms.

He told Kess about it; that Force confetti. She compared Force sensitivity to mental illness, saying that the Force was the voices in your head that didn't speak. It was hearing things, seeing things, and feeling things that weren't your own. She said that Jedi Training was just as much about turning it all _off_ than it was to crank it up and make magical use of it.

She wondered aloud how many people in the galaxy were labeled crazy because of it. How many people medicated away depression and paranoid schizophrenia when the real problem was that they were Force Sensitive and just didn't know it.

Together in that clearing, Luke and Kess soberly wondered how many peaceful people committed murder because they were hearing the unbridled rage of the guy next door. How many struggling souls snorted spice just to control their own dark side for a little while? How many suicides claimed innocent lives just to because the victim knew no other way to shut the Force up?

Luke squinted up through the never-ending stairwell behind Vanech, Han, and Lando, opening his mind for a peek and felt the throbbing tempest of that Force confetti here. He thought it was bad enough that day he found the clearing, or when they retreated from Hoth, or when fleet scrambled for cover over Endor, but nothing compared to this chaos that was Coruscant.

There was too much sentient emotion cooking the Force and not enough nature to cool it off. No wonder the crime rate in cities grew exponentially higher with the density of the population. Unless, of course, you stomped it out with an iron-healed boot of an Empire or punished it through some asinine commandments until no one could legally feel anything in the first place.

At the end of the long hike, Vanech pushed open a door and they were out on the floor of that mechanical gully again, picking through garbage to reach the still hanging cable from the severed landing pad above and the _Falcon_ on top of it. Han and Lando led the efforts to strap up in the harnesses, using the climber's grip to zip themselves back up its length. He could sense Kess up there helping out, and saw Chewie reach down a furry arm to bring up the bodies safely.

Luke and Vanech waited at the bottom in silence. Vanech lit up a death stick, leering at Luke through his own smoke like a snake ready to strike out at any moment and not feel one whit of remorse over doing so.

Both harnesses dropped on the ground by their feet, but Vanech only took a rocking step back and gestured at them. _After you._

Force sensitive or no, this man was on the dark side. There was no doubt about it. But Luke had to admit that if he'd grown up underneath the Imperial Palace, scratching a living by stealing food and fighting authorities without a safe harbor in which to meditate and recharge, he would probably be on the dark side too.


	29. 28 Prostitution

"How'd we do?" Kess asked eagerly between tasks of bringing up Han and Lando and helping them unravel from climbing harnesses.

"Don't know yet," Lando grunted.

Han struggled out of the strap and took an unsteady step backwards. "Come on, Kess. Let's get on board before anyone sees the crowd."

Naturally, Kess didn't want to go yet. She stood on the edge and tried to peek safely over so she could confirm Luke was coming too. She could sense him down there, but she wanted to see it with her own eyes.

Chewie put a big arm in front of her leaning chest and warbled tones of safety, chinning her to follow Han's order. The zip line was already taught with the next heavy body, so Kess obeyed and headed back up the ramp before she saw Luke emerge from below.

Back in the main bay, Han slumped down in the engineering chair, Lando helped himself to a container of hydrate in the galley, and Kess stood in the center of the deck, listening at the boot stomps following them into the ship, but Luke wasn't the first to come around the corner.

Her first reaction to Vanech was that of a mouse being approached by a boa constrictor. A sexy boa constrictor perhaps, but a dangerous predator nonetheless. Yet she could sense it from the others that he was someone with which they were forced to appease. They needed to play his game if they were to succeed in this mission, even if their trust in him was precarious. Kess instinctively treated this moment like that of any other uncertain trouble, still and silent, but watched the predator carefully.

Vanech strolled into the main bay as if he owned the place. He ignored Chewie sitting down to the game table with a passing comment. He ignored Luke leaning an impatient shoulder against the hatch frame behind him. The leather-wrapped meat stick squinted at Kess with tiny eyes, cocked his head, and grinned.

"Okay, we're here now." Lando announced. "Can we settle this? We don't have a lot of time."

Vanech licked his teeth as he looked Kess up and down and strolled slowly around her. She could feel more than just his eyes on her. There was a hot tickle on the Force that snagged her sexual attention. She concentrated to stuff away this embarrassing reaction before Luke could detect it.

Han rolled his head on his neck and shouted, "Vanech! Focus please?"

"Oh, but I _am_ focused." Vanech crooned quietly. He settled on his feet behind Kess's flank, outside the stretch of her vision.

She could see Luke's eyes narrow with warning. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin to exude strength, but strength was not what she felt. Quickly, she threw up a mental blocks and focused her mind on finding an anchor deep in her gut to weigh herself back down.

Vanech chuckled low. "I just found your golden ticket."

Kess barely felt the touch on her earlobe when Luke's hand lifted from his side. A bang crashed against the bulkhead behind her. The dark side spiked throughout the cabin in a strength and sharpness that stabbed her like a dozen knives. Her eyes widened at Luke and, by the time she turned to see what happened, Vanech was flat against the bulkhead with arms and legs splayed like a freshly-swatted bug.

Han sat up in alarm. Lando's eyes bulged. Chewie woofed out a quiet laugh and stomped his furry foot.

Vanech grinned sickly as he was released and relaxed back to the deck.

Luke changed his gesture to a warning finger. "Don't touch her."

"Guess the new Jedi aren't wasting time with vows of chastity, eh?"

Kess flatted her mouth and lifted her palms. "There's no need for a testosterone contest."

"Ah, but testosterone is about to be your plaything, little girl. If it ain't already." Vanech stepped around and in front of her again, now stepping backward to make some space between him and everyone else. "You guys want to get into the party, she's it."

"How?" Han challenged fiercely.

"I've been contracted to bring the evening's feminine entertainment. I can get her in there far easier than any of you."

"Out of the question," Luke concluded.

"No, wait." Lando stopped him. He raised a palm and stepped toward Vanech. "You want to get her in there as a prostitute? But can you get her in there with enough respect that she can deliver the terms of the Alliance?"

"You think my ladies don't carry enough respect?" Vanech squinted at the insult. "What kind of back alley pimp do you take me for?"

Luke shook his head, "We're not having this discussion—

Han put a palm out to Luke to shut him up as he eyed Vanech. "It's the safest way to get in there?"

Vanech nodded. And he was dead serious.

Luke shouted at Han, "You don't think they're going to be checking identchips of the whores too?"

Kess blinked back. She didn't know Luke even knew that word.

"Of course they will." Vanech told him, "But I have a better chance of dressing her up to the likeness of one my current employees than any of you punks."

Kess briefly gazed at the deck, then lifted an eyeball at Luke. He saw it, opened his mouth, and his head angled to curl away.

"I _do_ have experience with this sort of the thing," she pointed out gently.

"Oh really?" Lando's eyebrows went into his forehead.

Han tossed his head back with a dark laugh, nodding to remember a reference to that history.

"Is that so?" Vanech grinned more.

Kess was about to explain when Luke turned away from all of this and disappeared into the corridor.

All watched him go. They eyed each other for a moment as to the next step. Vanech waited. Lando shrugged. Han sat up in the chair to Kess. "Can you do it?"

She shrugged her hands. "Yeah, I can do it. I'm not comfortable with the politics of negotiating, but the proposal is in a packaged datacard I can hand off, right?" She shrugged again. "They know who I am. All I have to do is convince them the word is good and make sure they all see it. I can do that."

"Okay." Han gestured resolution and thumbed her out of the bay. "You go talk him down while Vanech works terms with us." He pushed out of the chair. "Let's get the _Falcon_ moved while we figure this out."

Kess went out of her way to walk around Vanech for the corridor. She knew she could do this plan, but something about this man was viscerally unsettling, and since Vanech seemed to bring out the darkest side of Luke she'd ever seen, perhaps it was better that she served this part of the mission just to keep the two separated.

It scared her. The way he instantly slammed Vanech into the wall after scarcely reaching for Kess, without pausing for thought, without struggling with the conflict of it, it scared the piss out of her. This was a side of Luke she never imagined he had.

Until she found out about his lineage, that is. And now it scared her that much more.

When she found him, he had wandered back to the bunk where they'd been sleeping, until last night anyway. The wall locker was open and Luke pressed both palms on each side of the bulkhead to stare where Artoo's precious brain parts snuggled in a box. His mouth was tight and his breath shook through his nose.

 _Don't obey me like I'm Vader_ , he had said. But if this is what she had to face when she did . . . ? Kess was never more afraid to approach him than right now.

She could hear the others already talking as they stepped into the cockpit. Lando asked Han if Luke was going to be all right, and Vanech responded with a laugh in his words, carrying the essence of, "I don't give a f—

"What does he have against you?" She asked gingerly.

"Same thing everyone else does." His voice was rough. He pushed off the bulkhead and kicked it hard before showing his back to her.

Her words shook. "And what do you have against him?"

Appalled, Luke spun around, "You didn't sense it?"

"Sense what?"

He scoffed; his eyes wide at her blindness. Wrath and wounds spiked from him like a cactus. "What he wants to do with you?"

Desperate to get control of this, she whispered fast. "That doesn't mean he's going to get _permission_!" She stressed what should have been obvious. "I'm only going to _pose_ as a prostitute, Luke, I'm not going to actually pick up a customer!"

He pointed hard at the bulkhead. "Did that man look like he was going to give you a choice?"

"And I'm sure that man will be suitably surprised to find I have a lightsaber on my hip."

Luke pressed his mouth. His jaw rippled. His eyes stared.

"I thought you trusted me more than this."

He rubbed his lips and looked at the floor. With him unwilling to say it, and her insult growing, she closed her eyes and opened up to see it with her own senses.

Jealousy.

So, for that spike of attraction when Vanech stalked into the room, for that one tiny moment of captivation, Luke's reaction was more about _her_ thoughts than _his_.

Her throat constricted. "What, no redhead jokes now?"

His eyes flashed with anger.

"You think those don't hurt?" She accused.

Luke tried to dismiss that with a shake of his head. "You shouldn't take those seriously."

"And you shouldn't take this seriously," she whispered hard. "I'm going to have to pretend some damned uncomfortable things to pull this off, but you should know me better than to be offended by them."

Luke began to calm with a pout of regret.

"You think I would've waited through all that training _on sheer hope_ if you weren't who I wanted in the long run? Come on, Luke! I was in love with you before you even knew my name."

"That's not true," he tried to say.

"What makes you think I'm going to hop into bed with the first hot guy I see?"

He rattled his hands at her. "I've known you for more than a year. We've been in the same room for dozens of introductions and hundreds of other men. That was the first time I've ever seen you sprout like that. But then you stuffed it away like it was old hat. Like you were practiced at hiding it from me."

"You're telling me you've never looked at a woman before?" She laughed low and audacious. "On the very day you were out with the boys at a _strip club_! And you're trying to pass off that you've never looked at woman before?"

His chin retreated. His jaw cocked. "I didn't pick the contact meet—

"That's not my point," she laughed with disbelief. "You look me in the eye and tell me you didn't cop a peek at what they were selling."

Luke closed his mouth. He swallowed carefully. He locked his knees and crossed his arms hard at his chest. "Okay. Then you look me in the eye and tell me you haven't coveted someone else since we met. _Other_ than him."

The Force flashed with panic and guilt. Busted. Kess's jaw hardened.

"Who's being a hypocrite now?" He hissed.

Kess struggled to regain her standing. "Luke, I forgive you for being human." She insisted. "But I ask you to show me the same respect."

He glanced away, and came back to it. His voice was softer, but still low. "Even so, I'm not comfortable with you dressing up as a prostitute to get into this thing."

"You got any other ideas? This thing starts in a couple of hours."

He flattened his mouth.

"It's simple, it's quick, and it's doable. And it leaves you free to go save my brother. Personally, I like those odds better than having to do it the other way around."

Luke began to relax but only to the logic of it. He sighed and nodded, and dropped his palm against the bulkhead with a locked elbow. With another hard huff, he rubbed his eyes.

Kess stepped up into him and softened her voice. "You need to go meditate, like really, _really_ bad. Because you're scaring the crap out of me. I don't know who this is that's trying to take control of you but it _isn't_ you."

His eyes flicked to her.

"And I want _you_ back."

Kess stared at him with the terrified sincerity of her message, and Luke eyed her back with a depth of understanding that she was only beginning to put together. She ended the discussion with a loving touch on his wrist, but the anger was in her eyes, as it was reflected in his.

Then Kenobi's granddaughter and Vader's son gave each other some space before they made it worse.


	30. 29 Mission Planning

It was the most uncomfortable mission planning Kess could imagine. Luke hid in the back of the ship as if to meditate, but she could feel him baking like toaster oven. Lando and Chewie flew the Falcon into the abandoned depths of a structure per Vanech's hovering directions while Han sat down with Kess at the game table and introduced her to photos and basic backgrounds of the six representatives they expected to see at the party.

The beauty of the Alliance's offer was that none of the systems of the Serra arm had to depend on each other. All they had to do was fend for themselves, but do so with the exact timing the Alliance attacked Coruscant. Since no one could say when that would be happening, the offer could have easily been accepted as promised only to have one or more of systems chicken out when the battle began. Kess not only had to convince the six representatives that the idea was viable, but more importantly that the offer was real. She had to convince them that she was carrying a true proposal from the Alliance and not posing as some secret loyalty test from the Empire.

"The bounty my head should help with that, you think?"

Han gave her a look, "But it's also going to put you at risk of being turned in for the cash." He pointed at the datapad. "You have to sell it that _this_ will be more profitable than turning you in."

Kess twisted her mouth to the side.

"And you have to sell it _six_ _times_."

She sighed hard and took the card. "Right."

Han angled his head. "Are you okay with this?"

"Yeah, sure," she shrugged. She saw his distrust and shrugged again. "I'm from Mos Eisley, Han. You think this isn't the first time I've had to get down and dirty to survive?"

Han flattened his mouth and glanced away, but came back. "Are you okay with him?"

"I can handle Vanech," she grumbled.

Han arched an eyebrow at her. "I'm not talking about Vanech."

Now on the hot plate with Han too, Kess fretted, but Han wasn't just expecting an answer, he deserved one. "We'll be fine," she assured. "He's—He just needs a little more convincing that I'm not going anywhere."

" _Then convince him_ ," Han ordered, and pushed away from the table.

Lando was already coming out of the cockpit. "So?" He looked at Kess and Han, then Luke now coming out from the corridor. "Are we ready to go?" Chewie came out but hung back from the central discussion to listen to all this.

Han stood to take the notes from Lando's hand. "You got the map?"

"Yeah, but not to the Senate Dome." Lando handed it over.

Vanech crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the corner. "Your heir is being held for safe keeping in a specific suite of the palace. And that suite has a balcony."

Lando pointed at datapad as Han was looking it over. "This gets us to the other side of the Palace and into a tower with a distant view of that balcony. If all we need to do is confirm who it is, I think it's safer to do that with a few blurry pictures. Don't you?"

It was her brother, so eyes shifted to Kess. But Kess looked at them and noted how Vanech looked particularly smug with all this. "Speaking of death marks." She nudged a distrusting chin. "How do we know he's not leading you guys into a trap?"

Han and Lando shared a glance and reported it simply. "Because we made the deal sweeter than any expired reward."

"No." Luke demanded; his intolerance palpable. "He's going to do it for free."

Vanech curled over a grinning gaze, "Oh, you _think_ so?"

Lando turned to calm Luke, but Han spoke first. "Now, Luke, we've got a crate full of credits we can deliver to this man as soon as all this is over."

"You think he's going to wait for an IOU?" Luke challenged.

Vanech shucked, "If the amount is more than all your death marks put together, you're damn right I will. I'm hungry but I ain't stupid."

"No." Luke shook his head, turning his eyes back to Vanech. "You're going to do it for free."

Vanech blinked like he had smoke in his eyes.

Luke continued, "Because _I'm_ going to make sure you lose the death mark Palpatine put on you."

Brows knitted, lifted, wrinkled. . . .

"You want to go home to Kein a free man?" Luke took a step only to Force Pull Vanech's little lightsaber from the holster, and that only to flip it around and hand it right back to him. "Our success us is the only way that's ever going to happen."

Untrusting, Vanech pulled one hand from the knot at his chest and took the little hilt back.

"Besides," Luke added as he turned away, "That's what Jedi do."

They all watched Luke disappear down the starboard hall before shuffling in silent reaction. Kess stood up and Lando unwrapped his cape. Han gave Kess a hard look, then gave Vanech a harder look. "You step out of line with her," he thumbed over his shoulder, "he's not the only one you're going to have to answer to."

Vanech hardly nodded to that. It was actually more like a shrug. His only reaction from that was entirely clear was his passive humor.

Within the next minute, Lando and Chewie were securing the ship and powering it down to prevent any kind of detection. Luke and Han were aimed to go one way, and Vanech and Kess were heading for the other.

Kess called out pathetically, "Don't get shot."

Luke called back without looking back, "Don't get caught."


	31. 30 Primping

Primping was never something Kess enjoyed, but she cared about her appearance enough to live with a level of beauty tasks she 'had' to do versus tasks that were just overkill. Having long hair was a way to avoid the salon and save minutes in her morning routine. Fingernails were easier to maintain with just a file and buffer, which came with the added benefit of not having chipped polish after the end of a week. Sure, she did the basic make-up and tweezing as everyone else, but she forgot (or skipped) doing that stuff as often as she remembered it. Her routine made her look 'acceptable', which resulted in a matching mediocre level of attention from men.

She often compared this effort/success ratio to that of Kayla, who was always wasting credits at the salon to change the color of her highlights and wore surgical gloves at work to protect her manicure. Kayla was drop dead gorgeous because she worked for it, not because of some innate beauty. But Kayla did it all for a reason: she craved the attention. It made her feel good. It was like a hobby, or a treat. A minor flirtatious moment would give Kayla a little high. It didn't need to be a specific guy, or even one she particularly liked. She could even enjoy that same high when someone else was getting romantic, especially someone she cared about. Which was why Kayla had an addictive interest for snippets of proof that Luke and Kess were sneaking intimate moments.

Walking away from a man she was in love with, just so she could _pretend_ to be in love with a half dozen strangers, Kess wondered what Kayla's advice would be right now.

Stung by Luke's cold words, Kess followed Vanech into a lift without paying any attention to the man. He didn't try to start a conversation and neither did she. He led the way through a level much higher up from where they parked, open to the cold air above, but still deep enough they were towered by skyscrapers. Bars and smoke shops, tattoo parlors and dancing clubs, Kess kept to herself the whole way until they stepped into a well-funded brothel.

Now it was time to bring her attention to task. It had been a very long time since she'd done anything like this and her current lifestyle required none of the vague skills this was going to require. She observed the ladies at work, for their posture and expressions, for their moods on the Force, specifically the mind-tricks they pulled on themselves to suffer through an employment this raunchy.

Or was it?

Where Kess's job trained her to stand at attention and stare at nothing until a verbal assault was over, these women reacted to such situations more proactively and calmed such a scene with 'happier' thoughts.

Vanech shared cheek-kisses with what appeared to be the Madame of the place and turned to introduce Kess.

"This is Saffron. She's going to take care of you from here."

Saffron was more drop dead gorgeous than Kayla, but in sultrier, darker version of it. Her hair kinked in curls of black silk. Her lips glistened with blood-colored gloss. Satins of ruby and laces of black wrapped her shapely body at the perfect angles to advertise her shape. But the most beautiful thing about this breathtaking lady was her smile, a genuine shine that reached from her wide mouth to the dazzling depth of her brown eyes.

She held back a fine shawl at her wrist to reach out a gentle handshake. "Pleasure's all mine."

"Hi. Kess." She cleared her throat and shook the hand. "Nice to meet ya." Initially, Kess wondered if the woman thought Kess was about to _be_ the customer. It was only by way of the Force she learned this woman's greeting was a normal, compassionate hello she used for everyone.

As this introduction was going down, Vanech brought his lips to brush against Saffron's ear and explained the situation.

Saffron's smile refreshed and she nodded with understanding. She turned to Vanech with a flirtatious bat of her eyelashes. "Oh, Zach. You always have a heart for lost kittens, don't you?"

Vanech shrugged a chin to that, and turned his feet to leave. To Kess, he spoke as if they had an intimate date planned, "I'll see you later."

Kess barely nodded that when Saffron hooked her arm into Kess's and led her like a girlfriend to the dressing room in the back.

Ten or more ladies were back here in this lounge where they could relax from their working roles, sucking death sticks and sipping shots as they gossiped about customers and checked their manicures. Names were shared, and Kess tried to remember them but couldn't keep track. Saffron announced that Kess was a hand-picked server for the Petra party and it was up to all of them to make Kess look the part. What shocked Kess the most was that the women hardly blinked at this explanation. They turned with interest, looked her up and down like a new project. One even clopped her hands and rubbed them together with a big smile. "Welcome to the bee hive, baby!"

Two women stood and walked around her, talking about color palates and cuts. A cocky Twi'lek stopped in front of Kess and motioned a swirling finger at the flight suit. "You know, there are some guys who like that look."

 _Yes, I know._ Kess thought with attitude. _I found one._

Saffron interjected softly from the side. "But we need to hide her identity in case her husband shows up. Can we pass her off as a Twi'lek?"

The Twi'lek cocked her jaw in consideration. She sucked in a death stick and blew the smoke into the air. Then narrowed her eyes in a challenge. "Can you dance?"

"No." Kess shyly shook her head, adding, "Not enough to do Twi'lek justice anyway."

The Twi'lek didn't outwardly respond, but Kess felt the tiny swell of the compliment inside the woman's mood.

The woman cocked her head the other way, sucked in another drag, and eyed Saffron. "A Togruta?"

Saffron smiled and bowed to her authority. "Do it."

"Come, child!" The Twi'lek turned her around by the shoulders, but with a touch as if afraid to get her fingers dirty. "First order of business: a bath!"

The next two hours, Kess felt like the girly girls were dressing her up for a date, except that these professionals knew this trade well and had all the tools handy to do it. She was scrubbed and waxed and tweezed and lotioned until she was no longer embarrassed by her nakedness. These half-naked women only looked on her body with respect of shape.

The Twi'lek, Laha, organized the effort to smear Kess in blood-orange body makeup and twist her real hair up to fit inside an elaborate yellow and black headdress. They painted her lips black and doused her irises white. She had a woman at each hand to sharpen up fake black claws while Laha gave her some pointers.

"Remember, you're not trying to fool anyone. No one is going to mistake you for a real Togruta, but that's not the point. There are plenty of customers who choose one species for the parts and another for the looks. You are a just human dressed up as a Togruta."

Kess nodded and looked at herself in the mirror. She hardly recognized herself anymore. But getting into costume wasn't the hard part. It was getting her brain into costume too. She closed her eyes to meditate while they all worked on her.

"Are you meditating?" Laha had taken a step to see her from the front.

Kess peaked her eye open. She smiled bashfully. "Yeah."

Laha nodded and narrowed her eyes. "Consider this meditation: 'love' is a verb, not a noun."

Painted eyebrows itched when she knitted them.

"Think about it. Love is an action, not a result. If you _actively_ love them, they will soften like muscles to a masseuse." She angled a lewd eye. "And they have to get soft before they get hard, honey."

Kess closed her eyes with flushing humor. She liked Laha more and more as the minutes ticked. And the other women too. She sensed the boldness and proactively of their demeanors, a confidence and ease in their humor. These women weren't in the business to get beat, or punished, or raped, or pretend something that wasn't there. These women were in the business to _care_. And like anyone who thrived in a customer-facing, hero-of-the-day kind of job, they 'cared' about their customers very, _very_ well.

Finally, wrapped in strips of black leather that hardly covered her blood-orange breasts and sharply waxed Venus patch, the ladies finished her off in a pair of knee-high black boots. The most covered parts of her body were her feet and her hair.

As their work on Kess was coming to an end, the work on themselves began to ramp up. This was the very crew going into the party with her, so Kess —now a slutty-dressed Togruta— sat at the round table in the corner and gracefully accepted the offers of liquor shots and — _fuggit_ — a mind soothing death stick while she chatted with the ladies getting themselves primped for this thing. It reminded her of that momentary wild streak she explored back when she was still a teenager in Mos Eisley.

(A wild streak incidentally nipped in the bud by a mere glare of scolding from Grandpa.)

Perhaps this was a part of Kess that the Force-thumping farm boy should never see, because, for this part of it, 'Jedi Lendra' enjoyed herself a little too much.


	32. 31 Under the Palace

Betrayed. Luke felt betrayed by her thoughts and more so by her actions. It was hard enough having to give up _Five_ to Rogue Group, even harder to pluck out Artoo's brains for parts, but now, with Kess thinking about other men, she wasn't a steady symbol of his life either?

Luke and Han didn't talk for most of the walk. The map was simple, save for a few curly spots through abandoned droid access portholes and unused vents. The first extended part of their travel wasn't west but _down_. Vanech directed them to a level far beneath the inhabited surface of the Temple Precinct. And, in order to escape detection from the lift's security cameras, Luke and Han climbed into the shaft and sat down on top of the elevator car to ride the thing as far down as it would go. This took time because they had to wait until the car wasn't being occupied by other passengers before sending it down. Luke and Han held on tight, albeit reasonably comfortable, riding up and down the windy shaft for a long time until that happened.

Still sad, Luke remembered his real place in the Universe: moving too fast, no real stability, always one microscopic mistake away from a fatal disaster. The four symbols of his life were dropping like flies. As Luke held onto the top of the fast moving car with one hand, he pulled up his lightsaber hilt with the other . . . and just looked at it.

How often had he done that? Just _looked_ at it. The thing was usually just a flashing memory: from the bedside to his hip. From his hip back to the bedside. On rare occasion, from his hip to his hands while he was focused on something else. But he couldn't remember the last time he just _looked_ at it.

It was just an object, of course, but one that carried a lot of symbolism. And the symbol carried a lot of history. He couldn't decide if this was the symbol that brought him and Kess together, or was it now just the wedge that was tearing them apart?

He wouldn't have known her reaction to Vanech if he couldn't sense it on the Force. She was too good at covering it up. But that unsettled him that much more. She only reacted that spontaneously to Vanech because she wasn't prepared for him, not to mention the cretin was fingering out his own Force tentacles in her direction as soon as he saw her. But her lightening quick reflex to cover it was evidence that Kess already had similar reactions to others. Before she must have had been prepared for it enough to cover it up before Luke could detect it.

He called her on that on the hope that she was entirely innocent of such a thing, but the first emotion out of her soul when he asked: _guilt_.

And Luke's first reaction to her guilt was: _Who?_

He remembered when Lando gave Kess a cute little salute and the smile Kess gave Lando in return. He remembered when Han gave a half-grin of amazed sincerity to say, "well done," to which Kess swelled with pride. How many times did she laugh at Wedge's jokes or listen acutely when Crix talked in a meeting?

Luke dropped his eyes closed and dropped the side of the hilt against his forehead.

"You okay, kid?" Han murmured.

"Yeah." Luke blinked his eyes opened and returned the hilt to his hip. "Yeah, I'm fine." He could fell Han's eyes on him, watching with concern, silently inviting a conversation. But Luke didn't want to talk about it right now. Deep down, remembering a moment long ago, when Luke realized he'd already lost his chance at a Princess they'd just rescued, Luke didn't really want to talk about this with Han at all.

The moment the car paused empty at some random level, Luke rested his fingertips on the dusty top of the car by his thigh and closed his eyes. It took little work to press a button two meters away, but even that little Force maneuver felt sticky in his shadowy mood.

Thankfully, they had a task to distract him. They rode the car down and crawled through giant steel I beams to get to the level immediately underneath the base of the Imperial Palace.

One couldn't get into the palace from here because the whole thing stood upon a slab of steel twenty meters thick and protected by an impenetrable energy shield. Instead, their hike led them _under_ it, using the remaining halls of whatever abandoned building was still intact beneath the new foundation.

Predictably, the halls here were huge, in some places reaching into the darkness in all directions. The palace foundation glowed dim blue on its own polished steel, giving them just enough light to navigate the breadth of the level with only their two small hand lamps. They crossed acres of dusty tile and passed dozens of snub bottoms of what once were tastefully-embellished columns, all severed less than six meters above their heads but with a girth that hinted this lobby was once as massive as the Palace itself. Occasionally, their beams crossed over the bases of immense statues; the original size of which was indicated only by the statue's boots. The rest of the stone figure—whoever it was—was sliced off at the ankles.

But that's when Luke noticed something curious about this place: a lot of it was made of natural stone, not durasteel, as if the original structure was a building carved out of the inside of a mountain. He didn't know Coruscant had any natural structures left. Side by side, they continued their hike, but now Luke aimed his hand lamp to the strange surroundings. He didn't find much. Carpet tattered to shreds. Gutted control panels. Naked stone walls where the hints of finer coverings were long stripped away. Gradually, they approached the base of another giant statue, and Luke stared with dawning shock when Vanech's words echoed in his head.

 _"Old enough to remember why Imperial Palace is still called the 'Temple Precinct'."_

As the light of his hand lamp focused closer on the details of this sculpture, Luke's feet slowed. The carving was thick at the bottom, wavy, like the trim of someone's flowing robes, now frozen in a three-dimensional image. Reaching down from this severed figure was a six-fingered hand holding an ignited lightsaber.

Han was several paces closer before he realized Luke had stopped, but he focused with instant understanding upon what had stopped him. Captivated, Luke stepped closer. The two men stood hardly taller than the statue's base. They both aimed up their hand lamps at that giant stone fist—now cut off at the wrist by the palace foundation—clearly gripping an ignited lightsaber to stab back up toward the ceiling—also cut off by the palace foundation.

It was poetic really, these symbols of Jedi history sliced in half as if by lightsaber by the Imperial Palace itself.

Han absorbed this faster than Luke did and glanced over at the other. "We'll be able to explore the whole thing after we capture this flag."

Mouth agape, eyes wide, Luke nodded. He closed his mouth and licked his lips, trying to pull himself away from it, and nodded again.

They resumed their march without seeing anything else of historical value, but that didn't keep Luke from shining his hand lamp in all directions as they went. Han paid closer attention to the kid now. At least Luke's focus was back, but it was back with a cold precision, similar to the emotionless monk he had become before Kess started training.

They exited the undercroft of the palace to the public sector on the other side and snuck to a second lift to summons a car from high above. This time, they didn't need to wait and were standing on the ugly rooftop of an apartment tower within minutes.

Vanech's directions were spot on. It took no effort to find the distant palace balcony in the binoculars from the parapet of this super tall building, and they both had the binoculars to look at it. At the moment, only two red guards stood like statues outside the impressive doorway, so they took turns to watch and wait.

"You gonna talk to me?" Han said with his mouth wrinkled and his eyes smashed to the viewfinder.

"Nothing to talk about." Luke dropped to sit with his back to the parapet, gazing passively at the industrial rooftop clutter while Han watched. "He's 'apparently' sexy and she clearly noticed."

Han pulled his still squinting eyes from the viewfinder _. "That's it?"_

Luke shrugged a hand from his knee. "Well, yeah, except that I realized she's done that before. When I asked her about it—" He closed his eyes and wrinkled his lids. He muttered in defeat. "I guess someone else has already caught her attention."

Han shrugged the binoculars. "So?"

"So!" Luke crooned, "How would you feel if Leia did that to you?"

"You think she hasn't?" Han sat on his hip with a laugh. "She kissed _you_ once just to get on my nerves!"

Luke blanched, and remembered. . . . His chin dropped to his chest.

Han angled his chin the other way, "You're looking at this all wrong, Luke."

Luke whined, "How am I supposed to look at it?"

"Honored."

Luke blinked.

"A person's reaction to an attractive counterpart is natural, but what they consciously decide to _not_ do about it?" Han peeked back into the binoculars. "You should feel honored."

Luke closed his mouth. His eyes stared at the air, at his memories, at his feelings.

Han patted the round of Luke's shoulder. "If you think she wasn't approached all that time you were training her, you're an idiot. The part you should focus on is that Kess didn't act on it."

The words struck him like a thunderbolt. Luke's eyes flicked over. "You know who it is."

Han glanced, flattened his mouth, and put his eyes back in the viewfinder.

Luke shifted onto his hip to face him. "Tell me who it is."

"It doesn't matter who it is, Luke. She didn't pursue and he took 'no' for an answer."

Luke's eyes fell back into that stare of fast-moving memory but he found too much data and not enough clues to know which pieces to pluck out of it all.

"It's going to happen over and over again for as long as you're together. And it's going to happen to both of you. Don't make it out to be a bigger deal than it is just because you can catch each other at it with your Jedi tricks."

Reluctant to that wisdom, Luke nodded.

"There he is." Han perked.

Luke scrambled around and pulled his own binoculars up. They could see three new bodies on that balcony. One was clearly a Moff in his stiff gray uniform. Another appeared to be a chambermaid by the way he was standing back from the exchange. But the heir, a human, Caucasian, male, with dark hair, stared out at the grand palace view as the Moff seemed to be trying to 'sell it' to him.

"I can't make out the face."

"I'm getting snapshots anyway."

They watched for several minutes more. The Moff strolled a bit in his speech and stood back to let the heir take in the scene of ultimate power. It could have been Nik Lendra, but Luke couldn't make a positive ID from this distance. Perhaps with the snapshots they could zoom in and clean up the image. Either way, whoever it was, his postured indicated he was still growing accustomed to all this, which meant whoever it was could still be saved.

An hour later, Han and Luke returned to the Falcon with a report to Lando and Chewie that their most important findings were not inside the Palace, but underneath it.


	33. 32 Vanech and Petra

Zach Vanech looked like a stalking tiger as he climbed the steps to the Flan Embassy. The guards were quick to jump into action to block his entry. "No admittance except on party business."

But Vanech had an official summons. He waited with cocky patience as the formal staff checked and double-checked that his invitation was legitimate.

Inside the luxuriant Royal suite, Prince Petra was on his feet, directing various aides through the final complexities of party preparations. When he caught a glimpse of Vanech, he concluded his momentary business and shooed everyone out. Vanech waited in the center of the floor as one waits for their turn at court, but lacking any air of subordination.

"Zach, my friend! Good to see you." As the last of the aides filed out of the suite, the prince strolled to his private throne and sat eagerly for the chat. "Is your beautiful staff prepared for the evening?"

Vanech gave him simple chin nod.

Petra rubbed his palms together. "Good, good. I had to hire one of your competitors for the other half of my guests. I trust your ladies and Kolby's gentlemen are professional enough to work well together?"

Fingers shrugged. "Two different client bases."

"Fantastic, fantastic. Now," Petra paused, thinking hard how to word this, and watched Vanech carefully. "There is one more favor I must ask of you regarding this evening. One of _monumental_ importance."

Brow twitched.

"I haven't received a _répondez s'il vous plaît_ from Baron Flintob as of yet. And it is crucial he is in attendance."

Vanech shrugged.

"I understand you are from Kein originally and retain connections therein in which you might be able to press the matter?"

Vanech almost grinned. "You _don't want_ Baron Flintob at this thing."

"And why is that?"

Vanech stepped a few paces closer. "As soon as Flintob notices the 'details' of your special guest list, he's going to see nothing but easy cash. Bounty hunters will crash your party like a meteor shower."

Petra paused his mouth open, gathering this data quickly. His chin cocked, "Have we mutual friends, Zach? Connections of which I was previously unaware?"

A chin lifted affirmative.

"Interesting that it would come in this package," Petra revealed a half smile. "They must have paid you well."

Vanech shrugged. "Money I got."

"Indeed." Petra adjusted the edge of his suit jacket and sighed. "Seems we're all craving elements more valuable than money these days." He set a fist on his knee and angled his elbow into the air. "But my special guest list is for naught if we can't get Kein to join the festivities."

"Baron Flintob holds no element in higher regard than money." Vanech advised, "Even if you paid him an exorbitant amount to attend this party and keep his mouth shut, the Kein system only stands to lose with your intended results."

Petra petted his chin in consideration. "Yes, I suspect the black market won't fair so well if we succeed, will it?"

Vanech shook his head.

"This mutual friend of ours," Petra fidgeted his fingers in thought of how to word it. "Have you seen the offer?"

Vanech shook his head again. "But the sheer amount of bounty in death marks currently in my care is staggering."

Eyebrows shot up. "Indeed?"

Vanech let out a little smile. "I have to admit, it's quite tempting."

Petra was amused. "So why don't you?"

"As I said, money I got."

Petra pushed out of his chair. "All these years away from your homeland has made you soft?"

"No. Just bored."

The prince chuckled deeply to that. He stepped to a bar and poured a pair of drinks from a decanter. He chuckled more, "I'm wildly curious how you intend to sneak these friends into the party."

Vanech chuckled.

Petra handed over a drink. "The evening will prove amusing to say the least." He sipped, "What I wouldn't give to be the one holding the chain leash while that lady wore a steel slave bikini."

Vanech sipped the liquor without response.

"But she wouldn't be the one to come," he calculated aloud. Petra dropped his elbow to the bartop. "Still, we can't do this without Kein. Have you any recommendations?"

Vanech shook his head. "Hit 'em in the pocketbook. Otherwise you're wasting your time."

The prince considered this deeply, fidgeting his fingers against lips. "Hm."

Vanech set the glass back on the bar. "And for all this, I need something from you."

"What's that?"

"A signal." Vanech angled his head. "At the party, if this doesn't go the way you hope, let me know so I can at least profit from their attempt."

"I can agree to that."

Vanech turned away. "See you tonight."


	34. 33 Waiting

"I hate this waiting," Lando groaned as he came in to the main bay and slumped down at the table. It was Chewie's turn to go stand watch at the ramp now, but the Wookiee wasn't in a hurry. Nothing was happening.

In hopes to catch a photo of this Imperial heir on the news, Chewie had hacked a feed airing Coruscant's public channel and wired it into the tiny vid at the engineering station. Talking heads smiled as they smeared Imperial propaganda, complete with video clips of system representatives still arriving for tomorrow's convention.

Han sat in the deepest part of the booth, fidgeting his bottle of soda more than he sipped it, and worked not to shout obscenities at the news. He grew so irritated with the bologna coming out of their mouths that he lowered the volume until it was hardly audible. He claimed it was to keep the news in the background so it wouldn't interfere with their conversation, but none of them seemed interested in conversation.

They were all itching to go help, but they agreed the best way to help was to stay out of the way. Man the getaway vehicle and stay out of sight. _Trust_. . . .

Luke brain snagged on that word. He sat on the edge of the circular booth and rested his elbows on his knees. His hands pressed at the palms so his flat fingers could brushed his chin, his mouth, his nose, and back down again. His eyes watched the vid for sight of this alleged heir, but his mind envisioned entirely different clips of video.

The warmth in her eyes when she prepped Rogan for takeoff in Rogue Twelve. Her smile when she met that assistant at the Minister of State reception. Her knowing laughter as she reviewed ship stat reports with Neilson. And who knows how many men she'd known for years in Gold Group.

Lando broke the silence to ask with sudden incredulity. "How does she have former experience with this?"

Standing against the bulkhead, Chewie finally uncrossed his arms and picked up his cross bow, warbling an explanation on his way to the door. Luke caught enough words to remember that night Han brandished a deeper background check on Kess, complete with a civilian arrest for prostitution. Her story was that she posed as a prostitute with the troopers so she could clear the area for an illicit credit exchange, but now Luke wondered how much of that was true. Such an incident wasn't much experience for the task ahead of her now, yet she seemed so confident she could pull it off.

He then remembered—with some reluctance—the richness and intensity of her intimate skills with _him_.

And here all this time he thought he was just lucky.

 _There is no such thing as luck._

Luke dropped his face into his palms and rubbed hard.

At the end of Chewie's exposition, Lando crooned huskily. "Well I'll be! Should've guessed that girl had a streak of naughtiness in her."

Luke pulled his palms away from his face only to slice an eye over his shoulder at Lando.

Lando instantly raised both palms in surrender. "Just saying, Luke. You're a lucky man."

He knew Lando didn't mean it and scolded himself for taking it personally. He pushed up from his knees with a groan. "Not so lucky if she's got another crush back home."

"Oh, it's a 'crush' now?" Han spread a smile. He shook his head and propped an elbow. "Kid, you're blowing this way out of proportion."

Luke turned to the table and slumped his elbows on top of it. "She's posing as a _prostitute_ right now."

Lando arched an eyebrow, "It is the safest way to get Leia's proposal to all those system reps."

"Leia wouldn't have approved of this if she knew how we were trying to do it."

Han angled his head. "Then it's a good thing she's not here."

Lando thumbed a joke. "Maybe we should wait this out back at the strip club?"

Han lifted a bright face to that idea.

Luke slumped his face to his forearms.

"Y'know what this is?" Han lectured. "This is because you haven't had _any_ women. All these years we've been pouncing around the galaxy trying to beat back the Empire, you've spent your time huddled away meditating instead of 'collecting experiences'."

Lando stretched his mouth and nodded in agreement.

Luke peeked his eyes up from his arm only to stare at nothing. He sighed like a deflating balloon.

But he perked up, eyes wide, mouth parted . . . and they could hear boots stepping up the ramp.

"Vanech," Luke said and eagerly climbed out of the booth.

The miscreant strolled into the main bay with a package hanging from his hand. Luke didn't notice it at first, only that Kess wasn't with him.

Han stood too. "Everything all set?"

Vanech nodded once before his eyes shifted to Luke. He seemed particularly pleased at the chance to insult Luke with this and reached out to offer the bundle.

Luke's eyes fell to the wad of fabric in the other man's fist. It was bolt-worth of army green fabric crossed with zippers and pockets, a flight suit without a body. The Lieutenant insignia still on the collar was painful enough, but when Luke took it and found the lightsaber hilt wrapped inside of the whole thing, his heart fell into his stomach.

Lando smirked. "Makes one wonder what she's wearing now."

Han whapped scolding fingers against Lando's arm.

To that, Vanech smiled. _"A lot less."_

Luke's jaw clenched.

Vanech let out a sinister chuckle about all this then turned his shoulder away to leave. "You can have her back when I'm done with her."

Palms out and eyes warning, Han stepped in front of Luke before anybody flew across the room.


	35. 34 Let the Party Begin!

The dome of Palpatine Convention Center was polished to a high shine and adorned in tapestries of black and gray of the Imperial Crest, but still dark as if the building was resting up before the big day tomorrow. But the Octaglia Hotel stretched into the purpling sky within clear view of the other, glittering with beam lights and flashing neon and seemingly symbol-less tapestries of red and white.

Hundreds of system leaders poured in to the landing lobby, arriving in the finest of craft and accompanied by the most luxurious of escorts. Prince Petra himself greeted the multitudes of system representatives in person, ensuring each a most beneficial seat at the party. Alas, this was not the Senate Dome; he could not fit everyone into one room. But he assured Queens and Slave Lords, Union Leaders and District Governors, that careful consideration was made to group his revelers in like-minded gatherings.

"You should have saved this celebration for the coronation," Moff Jakobi scolded. Beady eyes shifted to take in the arriving guests throughout the lobby.

Prince Petra bent at the waist to bow at the man and perked back up. "My dear man, you underestimate my powers. This is a mere street carnival compared to the fireworks I'm saving up for the new Emperor."

Jakobi's eyes shifted back.

The short prince smiled cutely as he turned away. "Why only have one party when you have an excuse for two?" Without further ado, Petra lifted his palms towards a waddling Kitonak. "Darling! Don't you look ravishing!"

Moff Jakobi shifted his black eyes back over the crowd with his mouth wrinkled in a permanent scowl. One of Petra's first-class ushers approached the man in pleasantries to direct him to his assigned party floor, but Jakobi waved her off.

Petra saw this and quickly called instruction, "It's alright, Roobie. Moff Jakobi is free to attend any floor he likes."

Jakobi looked back.

Petra bowed his chin. "With my compliments."

Jakobi turned his eyes back to the entranceway, flicked his eyes to the handful of Coruscant Guard troopers he'd brought with him, and marched into the hotel.

Petra's excuse of grouping like minds together was doomed if the Moff strolled onto the wrong floor. The only thing the six representatives of the Serra arm had in common was planetary geography. Additionally, since Petra wasn't entirely sure in what form Leia's proposal would come, Petra passed the word to Vanech that certain strumpets should wait in a back room until the coast was clear.

Already in said back room waiting for the party to ramp up, Kess received this news with relief, but the other ten working girls groaned with impatience. It was a party, after all, and by the booming bass of the music interspersed with shrieks of laughter, it was obvious they were missing a good one.

Prince Petra came to see them, but not without first knocking and waiting for the clearance to come in. Kess already liked the Force Print this man emitted, even if he was a little on edge about the last remaining party details. Knowing full well this was their true employer for the evening, all the girls swooned to fawn over the man, but he pressed them back with gentle acknowledgement and looked over them all. "I need to speak with my special guest of the evening."

The ladies looked over at Kess before Kess had the chance to raise her hand. Petra took one look at her and ushered her quickly into the black marble lavatory alone. Politely, Kess sat on the toilet so she could meet the man's height with respect.

He eyed her hard. "You bring us news from the outside?"

Kess gestured to the datacards stuffed in the sides of her boots. "Well, I have proposals from the Alli—

Petra quickly stopped her hands from pulling anything out. "How do I know you are who you say you are?"

Perhaps he thought she was reaching for a weapon. Kess sat upright again and considered this, then lifted her hand and used Telekinesis to bring over a lotion jar and drop it into Petra's open hand.

Petra looked down at it with a parted mouth. His eyes flicked back up to her.

Kess grinned, "Cinnamon Buns says 'hi'."

"Who _are_ you?"

To this Kess laughed, "I'm Jedi Lendra."

He looked her up and down. "No shit?"

"No shit."

His brows went into his forehead. "Well then." He rolled his shoulders back and slapped the jar back onto the counter. He motioned her proposal over. "Let us see what you have."

Kess handed over a datacard and Petra popped his head out of the bathroom for someone to hand him a pad on which he could read it. One of the girls cooed to him to let them join but he called back that he preferred his blow jobs to be private and slammed the door again.

Kess pinned her knees and clasped her hands on them while Petra slapped in the datacard and read hard.

His jaw crooked. His feet shuffled. His eyes went to up to the side.

"Well?"

"Short and sweet, just like the woman that penned it." Petra pulled the card out and tried to hand it back.

"No, I have one for each of you."

"Are they all the same?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He tucked his into his inside coat pocket. "Now, send me a signal once you've delivered them all so I can tally the votes."

Kess twisted her mouth. "If you're going to rally everyone to take a vote, why not just deliver them all at once _then_?"

He angled his head like she was new at this. "Because the six of us can't be alone in a room together without Empire knowing instantly what we're up to."

Kess pointed at the floor. "Is the Empire _here_? At the party?"

"Of course they're here at the party! This is Coruscant!" He put a palm on his bushy head. "From under which rock did they find you?"

Kess curled her shoulders and knees inward. "Sorry. I'm actually a grease monkey in my day job."

Petra dropped his arms to his sides and rolled his eyes away. He stepped to the door and scolded her just before he stepped to it. "If you blow your cover, lady, you're on your own."

He left the bathroom door hanging open and stormed out.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

All too soon, Saffron appeared and clapped her hands to set them all to work. The ladies leapt to their feet and whirled out of the room, half of them already dancing before they made it through the door. Kess stood and shifted her mind into the right gear for this. Laha paused to notice her, and came back to thread her arm through Kess's elbow. "Remember, it's a _verb_."

With a sigh for strength, Kess put on her best sultry smile, and sauntered into the party with her new friends.


	36. 35 Special Deliveries

This floor of the octagonal building was further fashioned to the likeness of an eight-pointed star. A golden Flanish throne sat high upon a pedestal at the opposite end of the entrance, and the other six wide triangles boasted grand seating in the custom decor and banner colors of six other cultures. Kess followed Saffron's lead to do the rounds about the room, standing in the backdrop with the others to practice her hippy walk and kiss-blowing while she took in details of all these guests. There must have been a hundred people in here already, and only half of those high seats were currently occupied.

This one must be Secretary Woody of Helmba, for his shaggy blonde hair and crooked smile was unlike anyone else's. That one had to be Vice President Tesseoni because she looked like a twig in a suit with an extra stick up her butt. Saffron seemed to have the plan mapped out. She led the group of girls around the room in clockwise fashion. She paused to chat warmly with each special guest and introduced whichever one of her ladies was being greedily eye-balled.

Secretary Woody was high as a kite, smiled hungrily at Freida, and waved the girl over to sit on his lap. Kess instead sauntered over to Assistant Clarissa and wrapped her arm around the uncomfortably prim woman.

Clarissa put a palm out with a shy smile and shook her head. But Kess met her eyes with a big, friendly smile and began to groove to the music. She took the woman's hand and lifted it into the air, jiving gently to the tunes, just making fun until Clarissa flushed a real smile.

"It's just a party," Kess crooned. " _It's your job_ to have a good time."

Clarissa nodded but patted Kess away politely. As the group began to move on to the next guest, Kess stomped up to the assistant to hug her with laughter—and dropped a datacard down the back of her blouse.

Clarissa's eyes bulged as if she'd goosed her, but Kess smacked a big kiss on her cheek and whispered into her ear. "The Alliance sends its regards."

With that, she sauntered to the next big chair.

She peaked back to see Clarissa adjusting her blouse and clasping her hands behind her hips, but the woman's shoulders seemed to roll back with a little more confidence than before.

Vice President Tesseoni of Tyrona lounged gracefully with a hot cup instead of an alcoholic drink. She had several male assistants with her, over which the prostitutes fawned whether the men liked it or not. Tesseoni herself gave Saffron a polite smile and tried to wave away the services. Saffron continued for a moment more, so Kess moved fast.

She plucked the card from her boot and rushed up like fanatic. She grabbed Tesseoni's hand with both of hers, exaggerating the endeared handshake. "It is such an honor to meet you."

Tesseoni blinked back. Her chin shifted, but her eyes did not.

Kess continued the hero worship like a loony. "You're a hero to all womankind. And I know I speak for _women_ _all across the galaxy . . ._ that your efforts and your successes are a boon to us all."

Tesseoni's hand shifted, just a little, and curled her fingers around the card hiding inside the handshake so Kess could let go.

As her hand returned to her own lap, she eyed Kess directly and dismissed her with a nod.

In the next chair was Ambassador Danje of Cagharten, currently looking quite impatient with all this. He waved Saffron off long before the group managed to approach him. And Kess noticed several the gang had already been pulled away by the interest of real customers.

Danje wasn't one of them. In fact, he was trying to order a drink server to go find Petra before he smashed the droid to pieces. Sensing this man was in no mood for games, Kess flicked her eyes to Saffron for an idea. Saffron nudged her ahead anyway.

Kess stomped up the steps to his formal wingback and sat herself in his lap before he noticed what was coming. The man blanched back and spread his arms away, grimacing, and cussing and tried to push her off of him. Kess grabbed his shoulders hard and tried to look sexy when she hissed into his ear. "Quit your bitching and take the damn datacard."

Danje reared his head back so he could look at her, squinting for recognition. Kess wiggled her plastic eyebrows, grabbed his face, and planted a big long smooch on the lips. "Sometimes Jedi just wanna have fun."

Danje blinked at this, stunned, and Kess tucked the datacard between his knees as she slithered off his legs.

As she moved away, Danje gave her a dark grin of humor, and crossed his legs—hiding the card further.

Prince Petra was in his throne now, eyeing everything at once, and ushered Kess over to sit in his lap for a moment. "How are we doing?"

Kess cuddled in him and whispered sexily into his ear, "Four down."

"Keep on it." He patted her rump and shoved her away.

Baron Flintob of Kein didn't really fit the description, but he was the man in the chair, so Kess calculated her approach. Laha was already up there, licking his ear, and eyed Kess to come on over and do the thing, but the moment Kess moved that direction, she felt a hard spike on the Force.

Her feet stopped mid-step. Her eyes shifted cautiously to search the room.

The Force seemed to focus a fish-eye view on Vanech standing cold and quiet in a back corner. His eyes said 'no.'

Kess looked at the others lounging around this wedge of the star, trying to determine to whom she was supposed to deliver the card, but that sharp spike pulsated a 'negative' every time she aimed for any Keinish-looking individual.

The moment passed. The three remaining ladies slipped away and moved on. The Force discipline gradually released when Kess moved on with them.

But they didn't move on to the next big chair, in fact, they avoided the last two entirely. It didn't take but a moment to realize this one was adorned in the black and gray decor of the Empire itself. This chair was meant for a Moff who, thankfully, wasn't in it right now.

The last one seemed just as unapproachable. Despite the all the swirling crowds of the party, this corner of the room was entirely empty save for a single, meditating woman. Kess watched the rest of the whores disburse to other groups. She struggled for a moment.

And decided to handle this one like a true Jedi.

Her Holiness Ro'Salia of At'Bintar sat with her hands on her knees and her eyes closed in prayer. Kess centered herself in front of Her Holiness before approaching, boldly stepped up to the throne alone.

Ro'Salia opened her eyes and Kess immediately dropped her gaze with veneration. She closed the distance and dropped to her knees, bowing until her head nearly hit the ground, and kissed the woman's finely-slippered feet.

With a timid plea, she said, "May Her Holiness grant a blessing upon this humble servant?"

Pleased by this, Ro'Salia touched the back of her head. "May the Force of God be with you, my child."

Kess looked up, and tucked the datacard under the toe of a slipper. "And May the Force be with you."

Ro'Salia looked at her for a beat, reflected a hidden grin, and bowed with reverence.

With that, Kess backed up before fully standing up. The whole thing looked like a prostitute begging forgiveness for her profession.

And then the prostitute got back to work.

To keep up the ruse, Kess sauntered over to the corner and fawned over stiffly-standing Zach Vanech. This was incredibly uncomfortable, not because she didn't like the man, but because she _did_. "What do I do with the last one?"

He looked down at her and put his hand out.

Kess hesitated. "But—

"Give it to me," he ordered, not taking 'no' for an answer.

Kess checked for onlookers and gave in, plucking it out of her boot to slap it into his hand.

Vanech didn't even try to hide it. He pulled a pad out of his back pocket and read the card as clearly as though he was reading a drink menu. . . . Until he glanced up at the entrance.

Grand Moff Jakobi, followed by whole unit of Coruscant Troopers, marched into the room.


	37. 36 The Serra Arm Treaty

"Turn off the music!" Jakobi shouted.

Petra gestured and the music went silent, but everyone else was already silent too. (Except for Secretary Woody, who was still giggling madly at whatever the last joke was.)

Jakobi's eyes stabbed over.

"Oh, calm down, Jakobi," Woody slurred. "There's enough here for everyone."

Petra strutted across the room to greet Jakobi man to man. "Are you enjoying the party so far, sir?"

"I understand you have a rebel infiltrator this evening." Jakobi announced. "I am here to save you from a terrible misunderstanding."

Petra spread his hands. "My parties tend to attract all manner of scum, Moff Jakobi. If there is one here, I'm sure they're just in it for the appetizers."

Jakobi considered him carefully.

"In fact, now that your here," Petra strolled in a large circle around the room, around Jakobi, eyeing each corner carefully as he spoke, "We can now commence with the _pièce de résistance._ My intention of this gathering is to extend the hand of friendship."

As he spoke, three droids rolled out to set up the small table in the center of the star with a half dozen customized drinks.

Petra continued, "I think we can all agree that this is a pivoting point in the history of the Empire, and I, for one, intend to embrace out new leadership with a hearty handshake." He turned his feet significantly back towards Jakobi, and picked up one of the drinks. "Will you join us in a toast?"

Kess panicked. Surely not all the reps had a chance to read what was on the card. And Baron Flintob didn't get one at all! Vanech lowered his fingers to her elbow and pinched until it hurt. Kess forced herself to relax. They watched.

"To new friends," Petra lifted the drink with significance and eyed the other five reps in the corners. "May this declaration of amity among the Serra Arm strengthen our resolve."

Danje was the first to climb to his feet. He strutted over to the table next to Petra and raised a glass.

Tesseoni also stepped over, sharing a nod with Danje, and picked up her drink.

Clarissa nudged Woody, grabbing his jacket and whispering harshly into his ear. Woody stumbled over. "Alright, alright." And wobbled over to pick up the drink, completely lost at what was going on.

Baron Flintob, clueless, strutted cockily over and lifted his drink with grandeur.

All eyes looked to Her Holiness.

Ro'Salia looked over the whole group. Her eyes landed on Petra, on Jakobi, and grazed across Kess. Then she looked at the selected group at the table. Small breaths of shock blew through the room as Her Holiness daintily rose to her feet and slid over to pick up a glass of water.

Then everyone else in the room raised their glasses too.

Ignored in the corner, Vanech waved a server droid over and grabbed two more drinks. One he kept, the other he handed to Kess. Eyeing her with instruction, he held it in the air.

Terrified of what was really happening, Kess toasted.

But she noticed Tesseoni's eyes peaking her way. She noticed Petra grinning to Vanech. Not all parties were at the center table, but all six systems of the Serra Arm, and the Alliance had a drink in their hands.

With an uncertain scowl, Jakobi picked up the last drink and lifted it into the air. "Long live the Empire."

Petra blinked a strange grin, but grinned it off, and his threw the shot down his throat.

One by one, the Serra Six drank, sipped, slurped, nodded, and set down their glasses again.

Petra slammed down his shot glass last, turned back to his throne, and muttered. "Fucker."

He then threw his hands in the air with a grand smile. "Music!"

The party roared up with fresh fervor and Vanech tossed his glass to the server droid without caring where it landed.

"What the hell just happened?" Kess whispered.

"We just signed a treaty." Vanech grabbed her drink from her hand and tossed it to the wall. "Let's get out of here." He pinched her elbow again and turned her fast around to duck out of the party.

And Laha followed.


	38. 37 Jealousy

With only a few hours left before the launch of the Convention, the Coruscant Newsnets finally produced a photo of Darth Tovecus.

But it was a photo of a man in a mask.

For a while, all eyes were glued to the little screen to hear reporters repeat the same vague data over and over again. The Grand Moffs promised they would step down from their temporary power, but only if Darth Tovecus passed a DNA test to prove an Imperial bloodline. The Convention organizers were going to great lengths to ensure that test was done by droids, unbiased and un-tampered, and advertised the test would be perform on Emperor's spire seat inside the refurbished Palpatine Convention Center, right there in front of every representative of every Imperial-controlled system.

Luke feared they would kill Nik Lendra the moment his DNA came up negative. But if Nik Lendra wasn't the man under the mask, the Alliance had a bigger problem on their hands. He watched the vid with increasing worry, but it was easier than worrying about her.

He sat at the game table with the Chewie in silence. Han was on watch and Lando was snatching a nap. Luke had tried to meditate a couple of times, he tried to get some sleep, but neither project was very effective. He rubbed his fingers against his forehead and stared at the air. At long length, he discovered that thinking this through was more effective than meditating, because this emotion was one with which he had little experience.

Jealousy.

Almost as soon as Ben drew Luke's attention towards Kesselia as his first trainee, Luke witnessed hints of her girlhood fascination with the 'Living Legend'. He took it in stride because a lot of people still felt that way. But now that he thought about that first year, when she had no idea he was occasionally observing her from a distance, he remembered the insignificant decisions in her life that kept her single all that time. The way she'd hover in the background when Kayla was on a flirtatious prowl. The way she sensed a less-than-respectable interest and turned down that offer for a date. Only with the overall pattern did it become obvious that she was avoiding romantic relationships. He knew why now; she was still recovering from the death of Rixxo at the Battle of Endor, yet Luke hardly witnessed her dwelling on that almost-fiancé either. Besides, she was the one with the cold feet in that relationship anyway. The closest thing Luke ever saw of Kess's sexual desire was an occasional retreat to her room with a trashy novel, and Luke was quick to respect his nose entirely out of that scene.

(He did it too. Who was he to judge?)

During that year, while Luke avoided the plunge to approach her as a Jedi Apprentice, Kess focused her off-time on stretching her skills at that gymnastics thing and pushing herself to improvement in that fencing class. It wasn't until recently that Luke admitted to himself he'd already begun to like her before he'd met her. He'd grown to respect her. She had a real dedication to her job, caring as much about the comfort of the pilots and droids as the craft she repaired for them. He'd grown fond of her sense of humor; how she often broke the tension in a group with a quiet little quip that kept things in perspective. His growing esteem wasn't conscious of course. She was just a fellow rebel, like Ashten or Shara or Wiley. But by the time Luke decided to secretly test her skills in fencing class, the foundation was laid. Her life patterns had already assured him that the only man Kess ever looked at was the Living Legend.

That was why it struck him to the core to learn it wasn't true. And it wasn't. That guilt she felt was only a flash, a snapshot, but the emotion was as strong and as clear as any high-res photo. What's more was that the guilt erupted from something that was _recent_. Even though their official coupleness was only weeks old, they'd been in love a lot longer than that. And they both knew it. There was no specific day or event that started them on this romantic path, but they had been emotionally 'together' for months now. Why would she consider someone else when she already had Luke on the hook?

But even if she did—and Han's wisdom rang true that this was normal—that wasn't the problem. The real problem was Luke's dark reaction to it. Vanech was just toying with her, trying to get a reaction out of her. The scalawag hardly noticed Luke was in the room until Luke flashed into action like a controlling husband. It wasn't the first time he'd slammed someone against a wall, but it was the first time he'd done it over something so stupid.

It started with attachment, sure, and he struggled to release that when he let her risk her life for the Battle of the Line, but now it had evolved into something more sinister. The horror of imagining how Cheenan got her pregnant made it worse, which somehow lead to a certain possessiveness during sex. Only with his wits about him did he realize the deeper turn-on in watching her face during orgasm, and his metal fingers gripped to a fist to hear that thought again, now in the sound of Vader's mechanical voice.

 _Mine_.

But how could she fix that? Tell him the entire truth would be a nice start. . . .

Or would it?

In a way, this was all her fault. Kess gave him _everything_. She submitted herself to his ownership with invitation, baring her neck and opening her body so he could stake his manly claim. And it wasn't just during sex but in the rest of their lives too. It took incredible circumstances before she would disobey the orders of her Commander, just as it took the extremity of learning about Vader before she quit that endless and over-worked Jedi training. These last few weeks, while they were trying to figure out how to be equals, Kess still hesitated questioning his authority, but now she was doing it a lot less.

Luke was no longer on a pedestal, and as a result, he was no longer the only man on her radar.

 _Wasn't that what you wanted?_ He scolded himself. _Isn't that what you trained her to do? Not just as a Jedi but as your mate? You never wanted to be the patriarch in a marriage. Beru put up with it because that's how she was raised, but Owen's social authority over her never felt right._

And here he was reacting to all this like Owen would have, with the added complication that Luke could catch her at it with his Force skill, and the additional concern of what he could turn into if he let this dark-side get the best of him. What if he caught her out-right flirting with someone? What if, during some far future lull in their relationship, or during some mission that kept them apart far too long, Kess started feeling a real affection towards another man?

 _It would hurt. Yeah. It would really, really hurt. . . . But what would you do about it?_

Trap her away like a caged pet? Chaperone her every social interaction? That's what he _wanted_ to do, but that was the dark side talking. Even if Kess was the kind of woman to tolerate that kind of thing (and she wasn't) his respect for her would wane, and Luke wouldn't love her nearly as much as he did right now.

Luke took a deep, shuddering breath and dropped his eyes into his fingers.

Jealousy.

It wasn't her responsibility to fix.

It was _his_.


	39. 38 Never Enough

Kess was glad that was over, but the results were oddly unsettling. She doubted Vanech had any right to agree to the proposal on behalf of the Kein System, but she was absolutely certain he didn't have the political power to fulfill that end of the treaty. And what about the Moff toasting with the rest of them? 'Long Live the Empire?' Something was amiss. And Kess realized the toast could simply have been a group gesture agreeing to destroy the _Millennium Falcon_ and every rebel scum within it.

In cold silence, Vanech continued to pinch her elbow to shove her into the lift, and pinched it again to drag her out to the valet deck. Without so much as a glance of explanation, he hired a taxi and made her climb into it first.

"Granko Market."

Kess had no idea if he was taking her back to the ship or further afar from it. As far as she knew, she could very well be on her way to the authorities so he could win his bounty _and_ partake in the benefits of the Alliance treaty. She knew nothing of the layout of Coruscant to get back to the ship on her own, but she easily resolved to figure that out later. The first order of business was to either learn his true intentions or escape his custody.

And her pride avoided the strategy of reaching out to Luke for help.

Granko Market was as lit with neon as everyplace else she'd seen so far, although the activity within it was clearly waning in these early hours of the morning. As soon as they landed, Vanech yanked her out of the cab and straight into a building. Initially, she let herself be handled like a rag doll because it was the best method to ease her father's rough handling all those years. Besides, his grip on her wrist was from more than the strength of his arm. It was going to take more than hand-to-hand combat to get away from this guy, especially without her lightsaber.

"I need the room," Vanech shouted. Bodies peeled from his wake. With a powerful thrust, he threw her against a wall and slammed the door shut. "Who else knows you're here?"

Kess managed her balance but remained in the corner. "What do you mean?"

"Somebody dropped you to Jakobi! The Empire knows there are rebels about." He slammed palm against the wall by her head and cowered until she could smell the raunchy smoke on his breath. " _Who else knows you're here!_ "

"I don't know!" Kess cried. "You guys are the only people I've seen since we landed!"

To that, his mouth wrinkled harder, but his eyes shifted.

Fear. Kess recognized it only by his actions. And anger gurgled up around it. This man was afraid of losing something, but it wasn't his life, and he couldn't control the related wrath that Kess might have caused such a risk.

Vanech pushed from the wall to pace room like a trapped tiger, but his shouting lowered to a cruel growl. "Somebody got clumsy. And now you fools have dragged me into this. You think Jakobi isn't going to check the security feed to figure out which one of you was the spy? You think he's not going to see that you walked into that room with _my staff_!"

Kess gathered her wits and balanced on her feet, ready to fight or flee, whichever came first. "We have nothing to gain by alerting the Imperials to our presence here. And _everything_ to lose."

His eyes hardly changed, but she could tell that her logic got through. "I stand to lose far more than all of your bounties put together," he hissed. "Don't mistake my assistance for loyalty."

"And what do you have to gain?" Kess asked, her boldness returning now. She watched Vanech break the eye contact and pace some more. "Luke said something about removing a death mark, but how does Luke have any power on a death mark over you? The Alliance doesn't work like that; not for gang lords on Coruscant."

He set his weight onto one foot like she was stupid. "All Imperial-imposed death marks go away if the Empire goes away."

"And what does that matter to the likes of you? How is it that your entire lifestyle isn't going to put brand new death marks on your head once the Alliance takes over?"

"Don't toy with me." Vanech's jaw clenched. "There is absolutely nothing stopping me from taking whatever payment I want from you right now. And I'd be long done before your little hero could be any the wiser."

"Then why don't you?" Kess dared, stepping into his face. "If that's what you wanted you would have never taken me to the party in the first place. And you don't want the bounty either or you would've turned us in the moment you knew we were here."

His mouth pressed closed and his anger intensified with the stiff huffing through his nose. "Do not presume to know my mind, woman."

" _I'm not trying to!_ " She shouted. "You know as well as I do I can't sense you. You're too practiced at blocking Empathy. And I'm too new at this shit. But you're attacking me for risking something _you_ fear to lose. Something so important that you're willing to forgo Han and Lando's offer of payment because _Luke_ can remove a _death mark_?" Her eyes narrowed. "So forgive me for using whatever logic I've got to defend myself when tossed into a room by a man who is clearly on the dark side!"

His lips peeled away with the gritting of his teeth to another level of anger, but Kess's eyes softened in shock at her own words. Vanech used the Force at the party to prevent her from approaching Baron Flintob, just as he used the Force to keep her in his grip until he yanked her in here.

"You know nothing of the dark side," he hissed.

Her breath escaped her mouth with understanding. "I know it's a bitch to have to live with," she said in wry humor. "I know the addiction has a likeness of heroin, or death sticks. That it eats you from the inside out. I know gobbles up every resource until you've got nothing left." She strolled back to her corner with an exhausted chuckle, now talking more to herself more than trying to convince him. "But life doesn't come with the benefit of blocking it cold turkey like you can with drugs. Or sex. Or violence. Freedom is never that easy." Her mind was on Luke now, and she shook her head to smile in sad reality. "You think Jedi don't struggle with this stuff too?"

He was silent.

Kess turned to him again, lifting her chin as if it was a threat. "You want to take 'payment' for your services? Honey, _do what you will_. I don't give a damn. It ain't the first time I've had to suffer through it and I doubt it will be my last. If that's what you need to get your fix, go for it. But it won't be enough. Because there _is_ never enough. And I think the reason you haven't done it already is because doing that to me will risk that one thing you want more than anything else in this galaxy."

A glint of humor was in his eyes now. "And what's that?"

"The freedom _from_ it."

His hard chin shifted the other direction.

"The only way you're going to get out of this darkness is if the Alliance takes over, and even if they succeed, you know as well as I do that that freedom will _not_ be extended to you if you take me by force."

"You think he loves you that much?" His mouth grinned darker. "Isn't that against the Jedi Code?"

"New Code, dude." She flashed a smile. "We haven't worked out the details yet, but yeah—the rules have changed." She met his eyes with deeper understanding and shrugged. "They _had_ to. Vader went off the deep end—for whatever reason—and all we can do about it now is adapt."

Vanech's brow twitched.

She stared him in the eyes. "So, yes, he _does_ love me that much."

Vanech eyed her for a long moment more without any discernible change in expression. Then he inhaled hard through his nose and broke the eye contact. He shuffled his boots and brought up a strong grip on the back of her neck. Kess half expected her face to get shoved into the door, but Vanech yanked it open before she landed against it.

He shoved her out ahead of him.

And let her go.


	40. 39 Haunted

Luke's senses tingled with anticipation, _someone else's_ anticipation. The fingers rubbing his forehead paused. His mouth parted. He sensed out. And he recognized her instantly.

Luke launched to his feet and trotted to the gangway. His feet moved fast down the ramp and his hand touched the rail to duck safely under it, but his rushing stopped there. Vanech was emerging from the unlit shadows with a nearly-naked Togruta.

Han pulled his blaster and Chewie poured around him to the deck. But Chewie reared back with a comment and Han stuffed his blaster easily away. The man locked his knees and crossed his arms at his chest with a smile as they approached. "Well, don't _you_ look like you had a good time."

Luke was still blinking in surprise when the red-orange woman rushed ahead and landed in his arms. She squeezed him with relief, with the relaxing of fear, and with the tension of questions. Luke held her, covering her body protectively in his arms while he stared at her face. His mind struggled to catch up with this development.

Kess looked up at him. Her eyes were white. Her lips were black. Where was her hair?

"Did you find my brother?"

Luke was reluctant to answer that.

"You're _brother_?" Vanech echoed.

Kess peeled from Luke's arms only enough to glance back at Vanech.

"You're a _Kenobi_?" He accused. His eyes demanded an answer.

Han moved his hand back to his hip. Chewie brought up his crossbow with a calm warning. Luke closed his mouth. "Yes, she is."

Vanech's mouth parted. He looked at Kess, then to Luke, and air filled his chest at this new data.

Luke's arms remained firmly wrapped around her body, in part because she was huddling into him like she needed it, but also to make his message crystal clear to Vanech.

 _Mine_.

Without further ado, Luke he turned her towards the ramp to take his girl home.

But Kess resisted his ushering. "What about my brother?"

Luke shook his head with defeat. "We couldn't make a positive ID. The balcony was too far away."

Han added to console. "We'll see if we can clean up the photos when we get home."

"But we can't leave him here!"

Vanech pounded forward and grabbed Kess's elbow again, but now with wider eyes. "Can he sense you?"

"What?"

"Your brother. Darth Tovecus. _Can he sense your presence?"_

Her mouth opened. She had no idea if he could. Nik certainly wasn't trained for it. But there had been a special connection between them throughout their growing up. Yet that could have been simply as two sibling victims in the same abusive household.

Vanech un-holstered his lightsaber. "Every cop on Coruscant must be looking for you right now."

The Force tightened.

"We should get out of here," Han said sharply.

But the Force tightened more than that. Vanech ignited a short blue blade, and Luke shoved Kess up the ramp to ignite his own. By the time Luke was ready for the assault, Vanech spun around with a wide swipe and sliced in half the body of a Twi'lek prostitute.

Laha's blaster tumbled to the floor by her legs as she screamed in a dying shudder.

They didn't have time for shock, though boots were already backing up for the ramp when they saw what she brought. Coruscant Guard poured around the corner showering red blaster bolts at them all.

Vanech deftly ducked away. Luke stomped out and blocked a shot from hitting Han. Han fired as he dove into the ship. Kess scrambled to her feet. Chewie cried when a blast zinged the fur on his shoulder. The group scrambled for cover up the ramp.

Luke stayed and blocked shots until the others were aboard. Vanech naturally backed up too, ducking and dodging shots with perfect grace, but his blue blade didn't rise up to help his defense, and his feet weren't aiming specifically for the ramp.

Two droidekas rolled around the corner and planted their feet.

"Come on!" Luke shouted, and he reached out to block another shot from nailing Vanech in the face.

Vanech reared back, glanced once, and dove into a run. The droidekas rattled like machine guns. Luke had to stretch his skill to protect the other man until Vanech was safely aboard.

The upper turret flared to life and fired. The Falcon found its wings and floated above the deck. Luke ran. Two pounds on the bulkhead and the ramp began to recede the same time the _Falcon_ lifted off the ground. Kess gripped a corner with both hands to keep from falling over in the banking craft. Vanech tried maneuver to the cockpit. Luke stomped through the bay with a hard order. "Turn that thing off and strap in!"

Vanech powered down his lightsaber the same time Luke disengaged his, but Vanech didn't follow the other order. With rocking steps, Kess followed him to the cockpit. Luke looked ready to hop down to the lower turret, but now stopped at the ladder to see the two coming.

Chewie yelled in full sentences from the cockpit.

Han flew frantically through the wide hall of this deck and yelled back. "Well we didn't exactly have anyone on tractor beam duty this time!"

Vanech gripped chairs to watch over their shoulders. "Go down."

 _"What?"_

"Go _down_!" Vanech shouted.

Han angled the Falcon high, hit the FGG to kick in, and, at Vanech's command, turned the Falcon down into a deeper cavern.

The blast shots faded behind them.

Luke stepped in, holding the bulkhead with one hand then the back of a chair with the other. The move put his arm between Kess and Vanech. She looked up, and Luke looked down. He wrapped his free arm around her again, pulling her nakedness to hide against the front of his body, and held her safely there.

"On my mark, angle ninety up," Vanech murmured.

Now Lando was in the corridor behind them, watching with intensity. "Where are we going?"

"Three . . . two . . . one . . . _mark!_ "

Han cranked the Falcon back level and now followed a horizontal slit.

"Slow down."

Han eased off.

"Aren't they following us?" Lando asked.

"No," Vanech said. "Keep going."

The Millennium Falcon cruised an easy speed along this flat and narrow space and slowed further when the halls grew tighter.

"Is this going to stay big enough to fit us?" Han asked.

Vanech didn't answer. He spoke with intense focus. "After that broken column, tight right."

The Falcon angled gently around the corner, slowing more so it didn't have to bank for it. They were deep in the guts of the city now. No lights shined from anywhere. No rodents. No droids. Were it not for the Falcon's headlamps, they would be flying through blackness.

But a pale blue began to glow like a wall ahead of them.

"At the shield, angle down again."

Han and Chewie slowed further until the Falcon was almost at a standstill. The FGG moaned to keep them standing as the mandibles aimed for the planet's far distant surface. The pale blue wall stretched as far as the eye could see.

"What _is_ that?" Lando worried.

Vanech maneuvered to the chair behind Han and sat down, leaning an elbow on his knee to keep watch over Han's shoulder. "When you see the deck, turn up again. Get underneath it."

The Falcon angled ninety degrees once more, now under the corner of that giant slab of steel and its pale blue force field.

Above them stretched the foundation of the Imperial Palace, barely lit by the shield. Beneath them lay the forgotten floor of an immense lobby. The _Falcon's_ headlights shined ahead at the stunted columns and decaying carpet, at the severed legs of a dozen Jedi statues, at the walls embellished with symbols of the Jedi Order, and hundreds of dusty piles of brown fabric—robes—now empty of bodies.

"By the Force," Kess breathed.

Vanech glanced back at her, at Luke, both of them staring like they saw ghosts. His eyes turned down with a thought, and returned to the task at hand.

With calm orders, he directed Han through the maze beyond the lobby. They angled ninety to the side to thread a tall, thin hallway, then flattened again so they could cruise over a huge courtyard of dead trees and sculptured landscape. In the middle of this vast, shriveled garden, headlamps shined across the top of a statue depicting a Jedi Master thrusting a lightsaber into the sky.

The robes flashing in action, the three-fingered claws on the hilt, the wide pointed ears, the giant serious eyes, the deeply wrinkled face. . . .

Luke's breath left his chest. "Yoda."

"Land here." Vanech ordered and climbed to his feet. He left the cockpit.

Han glanced back and searched the landscape for a clue. Chewie said something and Han dashed his head aside with consent. The Falcon lowered on top of that ever-stretching dead garden in the darkness, snapping trees and crunching bushes until the landing feet reached the tiled plaza paths below.

Vanech was at work at the engineering station when Luke and Kess passed him like two children eager to go outside, but Luke tried to tell her to change into real clothes first.

Vanech stopped them with a gesture. "Don't go out there."

Luke was the first to stop. "Why not?"

Kess smiled at the man like was crazy. "That's the Jedi Temple isn't it? We had no idea there was any of it left!"

"Are you _sure_ we're safe here?" Han demanded as he stormed around the corner. "Because I'd rather shoot my way out _before_ they figure out where we are."

Vanech nearly grinned at him. "Their sensors can't penetrate the palace shield. The upper echelon have ordered the Coruscant Guard down here to flush me out before, but the guards are too afraid to come down this far."

"Why?" Kess asked.

Still working at the engineering station, Vanech looked over with widened his eyes of mischief. "Because they think these levels are haunted."

Luke's smile spread with a laugh at the ceiling. His smiling eyes came down to Kess if she figured it out too.

"Oh!" Her black mouth blurted, white eyes blinking.

Luke angled his head at Vanech. "So why can't we go out there?"

Vanech pulled away from the station. His humor was gone, but it wasn't replaced by hate this time. "Because it's my home; not yours."

Lando took a step to the engineering station to see what Vanech had done. The image on the tiny screen was now nothing but a dimly lit, domed cavern. "What did you do?"

Vanech strolled to pull a crate over and plopped himself to sit on it. He pulled out a death stick and lit it up as he spoke. "You wanted to see who Darth Tovecus is, right?" He pointed at the little screen with his smoke. "Have a front row seat at the Convention." He blew the smoke out of his lungs with a smug eye at them all and lounged back against the bulkhead in his new chair. "Besides, you can't risk leaving this level until they stop looking for you."

Han stepped around and sat attentively at the game table chair, eyes on the little screen. "Which will be right about the time all eyes are on the DNA test."

Vanech nodded.

Kess's eyes now searched the tiny view of the giant senate dome. They could hardly see the droids roaming about the darkness like lice. She turned back at Vanech. "How does this help us if they're going to kill him the moment his DNA test comes up negative?"

Vanech shifted his chin. "You just told me you were a Kenobi."

"Not by blood!"

His mouth parted.

Luke wrapped her body against him once more, still uncomfortable with her walking around nearly naked and painted like a Togrutan in front of the others. He explained it calmly to Vanech, "Jedi Master Kenobi raised as his grandchildren, but there's no direct relation."

Vanech gestured to the screen. "Then why do you think Tovecus is your brother?"

"Because they have enough holes in her lineage to question it," Han told him.

Vanech shucked the stupidity of that. "You think they haven't already done a DNA test on this kid?"

Kess started.

"You think any Moff is dumb enough to put on a show like this if they didn't already know what they had in their hands?"

Luke's jaw shifted.

Vanech lounged back again. "Maybe Tovecus isn't a Kenobi, but he sure as hell is _somebody_."

"Whoever it is," Lando spoke calmly, "we'll find out in a few hours, right along with the rest of the galaxy."

Kess worried.

Luke ushered her gently toward the corridor. "Come on."

She looked up.

"Let's get you dressed," Luke murmured, lightly pulling her hand.

Kess closed her mouth, met eyes with Vanech once more, and stepped around to the port corridor with Luke behind her.


	41. 40 A New Plan Cresh

Luke and Kess didn't talk much in the corridor outside the lav, at least no more than him asking her repeatedly if she was okay and her repeatedly nodding and shrugging him off. She didn't mind he was there to help her out of that black man-kini looking strip of leather; all the buckles of the thing were out of reach behind her back. But Luke's fear of what already happened was clouding Kess's worry about what was about to happen next.

The black and yellow headdress of Togrutan horns was the most difficult part of the costume to remove, and Luke tried to help gently unglue the thing without it yanking out her hair follicles in the process. In the sideways view of her cringing and him pulling to get the thing out of her hair, she caught his farm boy eyes. He was working so hard not to ask.

"I didn't pick up a customer," she assured softly.

Luke found her eyes, but now he had an easier strength in his. "I didn't ask," he said with respect.

"I _did_ have to kiss Ambassador Danje though," she admitted with an easy grin. "It was the only way to shut him up."

Luke smiled, pressing a frowning nod of agreement. "Too bad I couldn't use the same tactic."

Still trying to fidget the headdress from her head, she shrugged a shoulder, smiled big, and quoted Leia. "You have your skills, I have mine."

He dropped his chin to his chest and chortled with some reluctance. When he lifted his eyes again, the rubber frame was finally separating from her hard-glued hair. Luke watched her straighten again, now entirely naked save for the gruesome body paint, but all he saw was her confidence and clarity. She hardly looked naked, but that's not what Luke was looking at anyway. He saw a woman who knew how to handle herself far better than Luke knew how to handle her methods to do it. He saw the inside of her, the heart of her, the easy, peaceful Force Print of her, the part of her that wasn't her body, the part that had nothing to do with her sex. He saw the personality that was strong and compassionate and trusting and loyal.

And Luke grew humble in her presence.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he looked at the floor, "about earlier." He struggled to word it. "I do trust you. _I do_. It's just. . . ."

As Luke groveled, Kess stepped to him, wrapping her arms around his sides and smiled supportively up to the eyes that struggled for strength to meet hers. His arms slid around her and held her warmly, but when his eyes found hers, he humbled, he sagged in defeat how to say it.

"It's just that you're new at this," she explained it for him. It was as simple as that.

Luke drew in a big breath. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"And the Force is really noisy here," she said sympathetically. "I'm sure it's affecting you more than it's affecting me."

Bashful, he smiled too, "Probably."

Her arms squeezed harder to make him look at her so she could tell him a serious truth. "But you still need to quit being an ass."

He pressed his mouth with shame.

Kess shook her head. "Luke, I am not innocent . . . . I am _not_ pure." Then she shrugged with a beautiful smile. "But I'm also not going anywhere."

Luke's whole existence smiled, and her whole existence smiled back.

She pulled from his arms and slowly closed the door in his face with a little joke, "Except the shower."

He beamed even as the door slid closed in front of his nose. He stood in the corridor a moment to wonder how he could ever deserve her. Kess had been so patient with him that whole training year, and her patience continued even now. She tolerated his childishness with this Vanech thing and she respectfully disagreed to his lack of input about her career. Hell, she didn't even punish him last week for not granting her a real hello the first time.

It wouldn't work to possess her. Kess wouldn't stand for it. And it was too late to start practicing abstinence like the old Jedi Order.

He turned away from the lav and picked up those leather clothes, if they could qualify as that, and decided that he was going to make a few changes about his own behavior. He set his mind ahead to take on a completely different kind of mission, a new Plan Cresh; because, if Luke didn't start treating her better, it wouldn't be Kess's fault if she started glancing elsewhere when someone else did.

Luke strutted out to the main bay carrying a headdress, a leather body strap, and a tall pair of boots. He planted the whole bundled on the deck in front of Vanech's feet with the cockiest grin to ever shine from his face. "And now she's wearing a lot less than that."

Vanech snorted. Han shook his head at his lap. Lando grinned it off.

The engineering chair was the only seat empty, so Luke sat back in it. He crossed his straight legs out ahead of him, and combed his clasped hands behind his head. He brainstormed for things he could do for her when they got home.

"What are we going to do if it is her brother?" Han asked.

Luke's happiness calmed to bring his mind back to work. He dropped his hands in his lap and looked to the screen. Lights were beginning to flick on inside the Senate Dome. "Well, if they've already done a DNA test, it won't be," he told them. "Ben told me straight up that he wasn't her real grandfather."

"Who's Ben?" Vanech blew smoke from his lips.

Luke glanced over. "Obi Wan Kenobi?" He saw Vanech's eyes light with recognition. "Did you know him?"

"Oh yeah," Vanech nodded emphatically, then shrugged. "Much as a six year old padawan could get to know a Master on the Jedi council." He shrugged again but with a glint. "We didn't exactly 'hang out'."

Luke was delighted by all this, and his sparkly mood was obvious. "You sure you won't let us go outside and poke around a little?" There was really nothing Vanech could do to stop them, but Luke would comply with the man's request out of Jedi respect.

Vanech shook his head, puffing the smoke in his own new level of smugness. "But I'll tell you what. You kick the Empire out of here and I'll give you a personalized tour when you get back."

"You, my friend, have a deal."

Vanech eyed with new warning. "Deal, yes. _Friend_ ," he shook his index finger, "not yet." He angled his head to look back at Han and Lando. "In fact, I am still expecting a healthy sum for all this."

Han and Lando both nodded easy confirmation. They never questioned that, even amidst Luke's earlier commandments to the contrary.

The tiny vid screen began to lighten more and more, and sentient bodies began moving along the back halls of the senate seats.

Kess came out after a while, now wearing the ivory tunic and black fitted pants that Threepio had packed for her. Her blond hair was a long, dry, flat curtain of silk behind her shoulders. All five men secretly looked her up and down at the difference, but she didn't notice. She stepped around the back of the engineering chair with her eyes stuck on the vid screen and rested a hand on Luke's shoulder. "Anything yet?"

Luke shook his head. "Soon though."

She watched for a long minute, and the rest of their eyes returned silently to the screen too. But then she nudged her hip to sit the arm of his chair, pushing Luke's arm away and around her by coincidence.

He glanced up at this move. She was more focused on the vid screen and any clue the feed my might grant her, but she settled by his side like a bird landing on a windowsill. As with any wild animal, she wouldn't have done that if she sensed any risk of being trapped by it.

Luke relaxed his arm to rest around her hips and grinned up at her side.

 _Mine . . ._ _because_ _I don't demand it._

His lungs breathed now, and his brain calmed. As they waited another hour before the Convention launched into action, Luke was able to close his eyes and grab a brief but real moment of cleansing meditation.

It was obvious they weren't going to make it out of this maze in the Falcon without Vanech hovering directly behind the pilot's shoulder with his directions, but it was also undisputed they'd have to shoot their way out once they got to the surface and hit hyperspace as soon as they cleared Coruscant traffic. The only escape prevented any opportunity for Zach Vanech to disembark before the _Falcon_ left Imperial Territory.

They agreed to drop Vanech anywhere he liked in return for his unexpected service. Vanech picked a planet but without any enthusiasm for it. He insisted on the money Han and Lando had offered be delivered at that time and no later, but he also insisted that Luke keep his promise to end the original Order 66 death mark.

Luke meet the man's hard gaze with honor, and nodded.

Kess secretly eyed Vanech more than once, trying to figure him out, but Vanech caught her at it every time. His eyes always noticed, his ankle propped on the other knee, his arm draped lazily over the top of his head, his free hand bringing the death stick to his lips to add to his smoldering gaze. He looked at her with a secret smugness like they'd already had sex, or like he knew she wanted to. And he seemed to enjoy knowing that truth more than having done the actual deed.

Kess thought about all the people here. She thought about Saffron and Laha, and all the confident women in that forum. She thought about Her Holiness, the Vice President, the Prince . . . the Ambassador, the Baron, the drunk Secretary with the under-appreciated assistant. Of all the people she'd met on this journey, the last person she expected to be helping them shoot their way out of Imperial Territory was the assassin-looking pimp.

There was an explanation for all this that Vanech wasn't ready to tell, and no one tried to press him on it.

But the old gang wasn't going to let the man out of all this Scott free. It was Lando to finally break down and say what they were all thinking, and did so like it was the ceremonial rubbing on a fresh-faced rebel recruit.

" _Y'knooow_ . . . " Lando strolled out of the galley with two fresh bottles of whatever and handed one to Vanech. "You could always just come back with us."

Vanech turned a warning glint, but he took the drink.

"Yeah, _in fact_ . . ." Han strolled across the bay to the galley for his own drink and gestured at the lightsaber on Vanech's hip. "I know somebody who can teach you how to use that thing properly." Han's palm scrambled Luke's hair as he passed the man and gave a haughty smile back to Vanech. "I got ' _contacts'_."

Chewie woofed with laughter.

Luke smiled in spite of himself and shoved the hand from his head. He combed his fitful hair back into place but it wouldn't stay. Even Kess was smiling now, so Luke was a little shy to raise his eyes again, but when he did, Vanech looked as amused by Han's bold gesture as he was surprised at Luke's lack of dark response to it.

Luke grinned and shrugged it off, and Kess slid off the arm of the chair to settle more comfortably in Luke's lap. (More so in need of his comfort right now, but still. . . .)

Han added as he poured himself a cup of java. "If nothing else, you can cop a squat in our safe harbor until the fireworks are over."

Vanech thumbed his temple as he listened to all this, but his eyes watched the pair on the engineering chair. And both of them seemed to know what it was about them he was intent to observe.

Neither this Skywalker nor that Kenobi were following the same feared footsteps.

Luke lifted a brow. "And maybe you can teach me a thing or two in return."

Vanech seemed to consider this for a longer minute.

The two men continued to stare at each other until Vanech pointed his death stick with a hard order, "No vows of chastity."

Han flashed a laugh. Lando agreed with a nod. Chewie hooted a chortle.

Luke wrapped both arms around the woman in his lap and pulled her closer. He sighed as if to give the man the 'bad news'. "No, Zach. I've decided that celibacy would make being a Jedi _way_ too easy."


	42. 41 The Test

After hours of watching the pomp and circumstance of this sham convention, the Powers That Be finally brought this Darth Tovecus up to the Chancellor's Spire for all to see.

Masked in black and shrouded in robes, there was no way to confirm Darth Tovecus was even human, much less positively identify who it was. Kess stressed harder than the rest of them, but they all went silent to watch every tiny detail of this circus. No one pointed out the weak link in the evidence that proclaimed Darth Vader was once Obi Wan Kenobi because the Convention stressed a sharper focus on rock solid proof that they had Kenobi's DNA. After all, the Imperial Palace squatted on top of the ruins of the old Jedi Temple. They also rambled for an hour about the security measures put in place to ensure the multitude of unbiased and unaltered droids that would present the findings.

When the time finally came, they _had_ to disrobe this Darth Tovecus enough to get to his skin and take samples. Kess squeezed Luke's hand like she was going in to labor, and Luke supportively let her do it. Robes were removed with reverence from the man's shoulders, revealing it was a human male. Then, with equal respect and care, an assistant lifted off his black mask.

It was—without question—Nikolai Lendra.

Both palms slammed over Kess's mouth in helpless terror. Luke's worry elevated too, but he brushed her back with his fingertips to try to keep her calm. There was nothing they could do about it now.

All watched with intense focus. Even Vanech had lowered his elbows to his knees and squinted hard to watch what was happening. In an uncharacteristic silence in the Falcon, _and_ in the Senate Dome, _and_ wherever else the wide-sprayed transmission reached, trillions watched as samples were taken of Nik's skin, blood, and hair, and placed into the sockets of awaiting droids.

In the space of three tremendous heartbeats, the droids popped out with their answer.

The Chamberlain spoke with delighted fanfare. "Darth Tovecus is hereby _confirmed_ . . . as the direct offspring of the late and venerable Lord Vader, once known as Jedi Master Obi Wan Kenobi!"


	43. 42 Epilogue

_My name is Nikolai Lendra. I'm from Mos Eisley, Tatooine. Arkanis Sector. I work at the Jundha Mining Plant. Rejit and I go for ale on Centaxdays. My wife is Gina Dorsen Lendra. My button. My beauty. She makes home-made venuta when I watch the Pod Race finals. My parents are Dane and Alexi Lendra. . . ._

He was weak. He was so weak. This had gone on too long.

"There now, Lord Tovecus," Jakobi grinned tightly, but he was bendy and wavy. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Twin protocol droids took off the robe and removed the helmet. Jakobi was a pasty face floating above a blurry gray rectangle of a uniform. The big room behind him was charcoal with polygons of dark blue. Nik's body rattled so hard he had to close his eyes to keep from throwing up.

"I understand this has been disorienting for you, my Lord." Jakobi continued, motioning orders to the droids. "You have my personal assurances we shall keep your Empire running smoothly until you are ready to take command yourself."

 _My name is Nikolai Lendra. My son is Ben Lendra. My buddy. My pal. My little scrapper. You are the reason I exist. You are the purpose of my life. I named you after my grandfather. My grandfather was Ben Kenobi. Tea drinking, book reading, super civilized, crazy old man. . . ._

A shiny silver protocol droid stepped into view and the sunlight glinted on his frame. Nik squinted to see passed the stars flooding his vision as the metal fingers reached for his neck and gently removed the voice-cap. The puncture holes stung as the needles came out of his throat.

Nik grunted and coughed. He put his palm over his sore neck. He could speak now, but now he didn't want to.

Jakobi continued, "Had his Excellency been here today, he would have been quite pleased with your performance." He picked up a fine crystal goblet of water and offered it to Nik. "And the great Lord Vader, you're illustrious father, we miss him dearly. I'm sure he's smiling from the grave to watch the grand presentation of Darth Tovecus."

Nik snagged the goblet with a full palm and gulped it down. The cold soothed his throat a little, but not by much. He swallowed hard and squinted one eye shut. The universe spun.

 _Darth who? My father was . . . was Vader? . . . Who are you again?_

Jakobi smiled more and nodded with satisfaction. "Let us practice one more time. Eye-Two, will you do the honors, please."

This was the first droid Nik learned to hate. The interrogator droid rolled over on wheels and reached out a mechanical arm to grab Nik's by the forearm. Nik fought to keep from getting caught, but N4 gripped his other arm and held him fast. His muscles were sore from trying to beat them back so many times already. His body was bruised from struggling against these iron fists. The more he fought back, the harder they gripped him.

"No—," his voice was painful gravel in his throat. He was too weak to withstand any more.

"Now, now. One more time, just for practice." Moff Jakobi said as he stepped back to let the droids get in there.

Holding his shaking forearm in a vice grip, I2 spread Nik's fingers with the mechanical likeness of his own and slid caps over each of his fingertips. He was impotent to stop it. There was nothing at first, but he already knew what was coming. He tried to fight it with a desperate thought.

 _My name is Nikolai Lendra. My wife is—_

 **Z-Z-Z-Z-Zap!**

Electricity sizzled into each of finger of his left hand, rattled hard through his chest, shook his heart, and sizzled out the other arm where N4 provided the ground to the floor.

"Say it." Moff Jakobi instructed like a patient teacher. "Say it."

Nik closed his eyes, already burned out from fighting this. If he didn't say it, they wouldn't stop. Mentally exhausted, physically weary, emotionally beaten, Nik gave in.

His voice cracked deep and grated across the damage from the voice cap. "My name is Darth Tovecus . . . Peace is a lie . . . There is only Passion . . . Through Passion I gain Strength . . . Through Strength I gain Power . . . Through Power I gain Victory. . . Through Victory my chains are Broken . . . Long live the Palpatine Empire. "

Nik tried not to hear the words coming out of his mouth, but he was too feeble to fight it. The words settled into his soft mind like insect digging into the sand.

And he was rewarded for it. I2 released the caps from his fingers and the grip on his forearm. N4 let his other arm go and stepped away. Nik stood like a dying plant ready to be blown over by a strong breeze.

"Very good." Jakobi smiled in his small smile. "Now, my Lord, I'm sure you're anxious to become acquainted with your new duties. Now that we've presented you to the Empire and received confirmation of your birthright, I assure you your real training will begin shortly."

 _It's gonna get worse?_ Nik's stomach flipped anew. He reached out and grabbed the first shoulder he could find. The shiny silver protocol droid glinted with sunlight like he was wearing LEDs in his frame.

A pasty face floated into Nik's blurry vision, and his words slanted and slurred in Nik's ears. "My Lord? You may rest now. Eye-Two will stay here so you can practice every few minutes." He patted Nik hard on the shoulder and smiled. "Congratulations, Darth Tovecus. You have been confirmed as the next Emperor of the galaxy."

Nik found his face and nodded. _My name is Tovecus. That's right, I remember now. I'm son of Vader. It is my birthright to be the next leader of the Empire._ His voice was still rough, but the tone was stronger. "Thank you for your service, Moff Jakobi."

Jakobi gave him one more firm pat on the shoulder and marched out of the great room. The wall slid shut. A shiny droid shuffled around a black and blue background. Red wedges stepped in front of the door and stood like statues. The practice was over for now. Nik closed his eyes and rattled his head, trying to relax.

 _Nik?_

Now he was hearing voices. The drugs distorted his brain so badly he was hearing voices. He rubbed his eyes with a groan that he was sinking further into the quagmire of all this. At least the voices sounded like Kay Kay.

 _Wait. . . . Who's Kay Kay?_

A memory? Back when Dad hit him in the jaw and Kay Kay spoke soft and fast to keep Nik from hitting him back. There was sunlight then. And sand. Brightness.

Nik looked up. This was darkness. Foggy eyes searched the grand suite. Black. Dark Blue. Silver droids. Red guards. But no little sister.

 _Nik? Can you hear me?_

Sun shined through the giant windows at the end of the room. Out there was the biggest city he'd ever seen. Out there was his Empire. Out there was sunlight.

Nik turned his feet and shuffled to the end of the suite. N4 waddled close by his side, and Nik grabbed the offering forearm to help keep his balance. His forced his eyes to focus on the signs of shining sun and muttered the words so the droid would allow it.

"My name is Darth Tovecus. Peace is a lie. There is only Passion."

The Red Guards stepped aside as he approached and stepped out through the sliding doors ahead of him.

"Through Passion I gain Strength. Through Strength I gain Power."

With N4 close by his side, Nik shuffled out to the balcony and looked over the glittering lights and silver spikes of buildings. Down there was the black slope of the pyramid-shaped Palace, and he was at the peak of it all. He let go of the droid's arm and put his hands on the high rail to look at the dark landscape. This was _his_ Empire.

But Nik turned his face up to the warmth of the sun. He closed his eyes to absorb the brightness into his bones.

 _You gotta keep it together, Nik._

Kay Kay's voice was gentle, but it was desperate to tether her brother from going over the edge. She whispered from behind his shoulder, urging him not to hit Dad back. He remembered the wrathful face of his father.

 _Darth Vader? Yes, my father was Darth Vader. But why couldn't I hit Darth Vader back?_ _Through Passion I gain Strength. Through Strength I g—_

An explosion. Nik popped his eyes open. Down there, beyond the edge of the palace, where the city sprouted up around the base like metallic thorns, there erupted a commotion. Red and blue lights flashed. Sirens wailed in the distance. Red bolts shot up from the ground.

 _Hang in there, Nik. You gotta hold it together._

N4 and Red Guards swarmed around him to protect the Emperor, but the commotion wasn't headed this way. A single ship shot out of the ground, firing all guns to clear its path, twisting back and forth to dodge the criss-cross of traffic. The sun reflected on the disc shape of the ship, glinting the shape off its pointed mandibles and an offset cockpit. It was a flash of brightness.

 _I'm coming back for you. It'll be a bit, but I promise I'm coming back . . . ._

Big brown eyes watched the thing go in dismay. _Kay Kay?_

 _Hang in there, Nik—_

The ship streaked into hyperspace.

The voice silenced. The brightness dimmed.

As the commotion in the city began to calm, Red Guards crowded around him to usher him back into the Imperial suite. Nik didn't fight it.

He shuffled back inside and let N4 guided him to a chair where he slumped down to their will. He was so weak.

Nik took a deep, slow breath, even if it shook in his sore lungs to do it. He gripped the arm of the chair with his fingers until his fingernails ripped holes the upholstery. He griped onto the memories of Kay Kay. He focused on the pain of Dad's fist in his jaw. He remembered the sand. The suns. In the desert. On Tatooine. But all that was behind him.

Darkness in front of him and brightness behind him.

Nik breathed carefully, opened his eyes at nothing, closed his mouth, and huffed through his nose and began again.

 _My son is Ben Lendra, named after my grandfather. My grandfather was Ben Kenobi. My sister is Kesselia Kenobi Lendra . . . Kay Kay . . . Kay Kay's a Jedi!_ His eyes bulged.

 _That voice!_

The interrogator droid rolled over and reached for his forearm. Nik saw the darkness coming for him, but now he _knew_ the brightness was behind him, and still tethering him tenderly to keep from hitting Dad back.

Nik watched the darkness coming and fought it, but this time he didn't fight it with a fist. This time, Nik pushed himself to his feet and offered his arm over freely. Nik rolled his shoulders strong, closed his eyes, and thought fast.

 _My name is Nikolai Lendra. My sister is a Jedi—_

 **Z-Z-Z-Z-Zap!**

Electricity shot through his fingers, rattled his heart, shuddered his lungs, and sizzled all the way out his other hand. Nik grunted hard and loud at the pain.

He gritted his teeth, stared the interrogator droid in the face, and huffed with the wrathful craving to hit back. Every molecule in his body commanded that he say the words: _My name is Darth Tovecus._

But Nik gripped onto the elusive brightness behind him. He faced down the palpable darkness in front of him. And his clenching teeth nearly splintered as he screamed the words his mind.

 _My FUCKING name! . . . is NIKOLAI! . . . LENDRA!_

 _I_ _ **AM**_ _a Kenobi!_

 _And I am stronger than you think._


	44. About This Book

**About this Book**

Special thanks to (in no particular order): Arianna Le Fay, Queenylime21, questah, HermioneGIsMyName, lukeskywalkeer, SaraELupin, JoeyStar, Sylarfan, sixteenstep, jinglepinlepie, and a dead Jedi Master who insisted I listen to all of you.

* * *

 **Borrowed Characters**

Additional O.C.s are written in as an exercise for character-building/character-capturing for other fiction. I've changed the names and histories to fit them within the Star Wars universe but the original characters are listed below in order to credit their sources.

~Ambassador Danje of Cagharten played by Jeff Daniels as Will McAvoy in The Newsroom.

~Prince Petra of Flan played by Peter Dinklage as Tyrion Lannister in Game of Thrones.

~Vice President Tesseoni of Tyrona played by Téa Leoni as Elizabeth McCord in Madam Secretary.

~Secretary Woody of Helmba played by Woody Harrelson as Haymitch Abernathy in The Hunger Games.

~Assistant Clarissa played by America Ferrera as Amy in Superstore.

~Zach Vanech of Kein played by Zach McGowan as Charles Vane in Black Sails.

~Her Holiness Ro'Salia of At'Bintar played by Mary McDonnell as President Laura Roslin of Battlestar Gallactica (2004).

~Saffron played by Morena Baccarin as Inara Serra of Firefly / Serenity.

~Grand Moff Jakobi played by Derek Jacobi as Senator Gracchus in Gladiator.

~Nikolai Lendra played by Karl Urban.

Thanks for the inspiration.


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